THE 


ATT  O 


OK, 


THE  CORRESPONDENCE  OF  JOHN  QUOD, 


BY 


JOHN    T.   IKYING, 


NEW  YOKE: 
ROBERT    M.  DE   WITT,    PUBLISHER, 

13  FRANKFORT  STREET. 


INTRODUCTION. 


ONE  fine  afternoon,  in  the  month  of  October,  in 
strolling  a  short  distance  out  of  the  city,  I  fell  in 
with  a  tall  elderly  man,  clad  in  a  suit  of  rusty  black. 
His  silvery  hair  hung  over  his  shoulders,  and  he  had 
a  slight  stoop  in  his  gait,  as  if  time  were  beginning 
to  tell  upon  him.  There  was  an  expression  of  great 
benevolence  in  his  face,  and  a  mild,  yet  joyous 

twinkle1  in  his  eye,  indicative  of  fine  feeling.     He 

«•.. 

was  watching  a  grmip  of  boys  at  play  on  the  grass ; 
and  occasionally  I  heard  a  merry  laugh  gush  from 
'the  old  fellow,  jvhich  drew  me  to  his  side.  I  am 
generally  averse  from  forming  acquaintance  with 
strangers ;  but  there  was  something  in  the  look  and 
manner  of  this  man  that  attracted  me,  and  induced 
me  to  overstep  old  prejudices.  I  easily  made  an 
excuse  to  enter  into  conversation  with  him,  and 
found  him  to  be  the  warm-hearted,  guileless  old  man 
that  his  looks  betokened. 

'A  merry  group  they  are.     GOD  bless  them ! '  said 

M828337 


iv  INTRODUCTION. 

he,  pointing  to  the  boys,  as  they  ran,  romping,  over 
the  green ;  '  how  I  love  childhood  !  God  stamps  his 
own  purity  on  it ;  but  the  world  soon  wears  off  the 
impress.  Well,  well,  I  suppose  it's  for  the  best.' 
As  he  spoke,  he  moved  off,  as  if  to  leave  the  place. 
But  I  had  no  idea  of  losing  the  acquaintance  which 
I  had  just  formed;  so  I  walked  on  at  his  side.  He 
did  not  seem  at  all  loth  to  the  companionship  of  a 
stranger,  and  made  no  secret  of  his  name  or  where 
abouts.  The  first,  he  told  me;  was  'JOHN  QUOD;' 
that  he  was  a  solitary  man,  without  kith  or  kin ;  and 
that  he  occupied  a  ruinous  house  in  an  unfrequented 
part  of  the  city,  From  the  remarks  which  dropped 
from  him,  I  judged  that  his  means  were  limited ; 
nevertheless  he  contrived  to  drop  a  sixpence  in  the 
hat  of  a  beggar  whom  we  passed,  and  who  seemed 
to  expect  it  when  he  saw  him.  Chatting  on  various 
subjects,  we  continued  our  walk  until  we  came  to 
the  central  part  of  the  city.  Here  he  took  leave  of 
me;  and  after  inviting  me  to  call  on  him,  bent  his 
steps  toward  his  home. 

A  few  days  after  this,  I  visited  him  at  his  dwell 
ing;  and  from  that  time  scarcely  a  day  has  passed 
which  has  not  found  me  lingering  about  his  haunt. 
There  is  much  in  his  simple  character,  and  in  his 
dreamy,  yet  artless  mind,  to  amuse  an  idler,  which  I 
acknowledge  myself  to  be  ;  and  his  conversation  is 


INTRODUCTION.  V 

so  replete  with,  forbearance  to  the  failings  of  others, 
and  with  benevolence  to  every  thing  about  him,  that 
it  wins  one  irresistibly  to  him.  From  what  has  oc 
casionally  escaped  him  in  conversation,  I  am  con 
vinced  that  he  is  a  thorough  stickler  for  old  notions, 
and  a  confirmed  believer  in  ghosts  and  hobgoblins ; 
nor  do  I  think  that  he  would  exchange  the  crazy  old 
tenement  which  he  now  inhabits,  and  of  which  he 
speaks  in  the  most  enthusiastic  terms,  for  the  finest 
dwelling  in  the  city. 

To  explain  the  irregularity  in  the  commencement 
of  the  'Attorney,'  it  may  be  necessary  to  mention 
that  the  whole  of  the  following  pages  first  made 
their  appearance  in  '  The  New-York  Knickerbocker 
Magazine,'  in  monthly  numbers,  each  containing 
several  chapters.  At  first  these  numbers  were  pre 
faced  by  a  note  from  Mr.  QUOD  to  the  editor  of  that 
Magazine,  containing  the  letters  of  several  of  the 
many  correspondents  who  had  sprung  up  about  him 
as  soon  as  it  became  known  that  he  had  a  whole 
haunted  house  to  himself. 

By  degrees,  as  he  states  in  the  conclusion  to  his 
story,  his  correspondents  became  too  numerous  for 
him  to  trespass  further  upon  the  pages  of  the  period 
ical  with  their  letters  and  his  replies ;  and  at  this 
time  he  left  off  prefacing  the  *  numbers,'  and  devoted 
himself  exclusively  to  his  story. 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

Thus  much,  as  a  friend  of  Mr.  QUOD,  I  felt  called 
upon  to  say ;  and  having  discharged  this  duty,  I  can 
do  nothing  more  to  protect  him  from  the  risk  which 
he  has  chosen  to  run,  in  trusting  his  work  to  so 
fickle  a  thing  as  '  public  favor.' 

February,  1842.  J.  T.  L 


INTRODUCTION.  vii 

THE  preceding  pages  were  written  ten  years  since, 
during  a  temporary  absence  of  Mr.  QUOD  from  the 
city.  But  my  friend  has  since  departed  on  that  long 
journey  from  which  there  is  no  return,  and  I  cannot 
cannot  let  the  occasion  pass  without  a  few  words  of 
tribute  to  his  memory. 

He  was  a  genial  old  man,  of  great  simplicity  of 
character,  with  a  large  heart  and  a  shallow  purse, 
which  two  peculiarities  he  maintained  to  the  end  of 
his  life. 

He  came  into  the  neighborhood  where  he  has  laid 
the  scene  of  his  tale,  a  stranger,  with  rather  an 
ominous  character,  from  the  fact  of  his  having  quar 
tered  himself  in  a  haunted  house.  But  by  degrees 
he  gathered  friends  about  him.  He  had  an  ear  ever 
open  to  the  call  of  distress,  and  all  who  were  poorer 
than  himself,  and  appealed  to  his  bounty,  had  the 
'  run '  of  his  pocket.  He  was  stern  in  his  sense  of 
right  and  wrong,  but  his  justice  was  tempered  with 
mercy,  and  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  there  was 
constantly  welling  up  a  spring  of  charity  to  his  fel 
low-man  ;  and  although  vice  met  a  rebuke  at  his  lips, 
its  accompanying  wretchedness  always  received  relief. 

His  neighbors  shook  their  heads  at  him,  and  called 
him  a  credulous  old  fool,  and  said  '  he  deserved  to 
be  as  poor  as  he  was ;  '  but  their  hearts  softened  when 


viu  INTRODUCTION. 

they  heard  that  he  was  ill  and  like  to  die  ;  and  that 
the  mild  face  and  kindly  voice  which  had  been  used 
to  greet  them  as  they  passed  his  door  would  soon  be 
missed  for  ever. 

I  more  than  suspected  that  he  had  met  with  trou 
bles  and  disappointments  in  early  life,  but  what  they 
were  I  never  knew.  A  sad  tone  or  a  heavy  sigh,  as 
he  spoke  of  the  failure  of  hopes  and  projects  in  days 
gone  by,  were  all  that  ever  escaped  his  lips  on  the 
subject.  "Whatever  his  troubles  or  trials  had  been, 
they  had  only  tended  to  render  him  more  alive  to 
the  sorrows  of  those  about  him. 

His  funeral  was  well  attended  by  his  neighbors, 
for  he  had  written  a  book  and  had  occupied  a  haunted 
house,  the  latter  being  a  most  unquestionable  ground 
for  notoriety ;  and  whatever  his  faults  or  foibles  may 
have  been,  they  were  then  forgotten.  Even  those 
who  had  sneered  the  most  at  his  credulity,  gathered 
in  sad  silence  about  his  grave.  They  had  learned 
how  poor  he  was ;  and  that  his  charity  had  been  af 
forded  out  of  means  far  more  limited  than  their  own. 
Though  his  worldly  wealth  was  gone,  they  felt  that 
he  had  treasured  up  for  himself  kind  memories  in 
the  hearts  of  the  poor  and  wretched,  which  they 
could  never  gain ;  and  that  his  good  deeds  would 
follow  hinvto  that  far-off  land  whither  he  was  gone. 

J.  T.  I. 


THE  ATTORNEY; 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  JOHN  QUOD, 


THE 


QUOD  CORRESPONDENCE. 


FROM  my  boyhood,  Mr.  EDITOR,  I  have  been  a  day- 
dreamer  ;  and  the  habit  which  I  then  cherished  remains 
with  me  even  now,  when  my  step  is  tottering,  and  the  fur 
rows  are  deepened  in  my  cheek.  I  have  woven  many  a 
bright-leaved  garland  around  the  future,  and  have  lived  to 
see  its  flowers  fade  and  its  freshness  wither ;  yet  I  regret  not 
the  time  as  misspent,  for  dreams,  whether  waking  or  sleeping, 
are  realities  while  they  last ;  and  so  they  be  but  golden  ones, 
happy  is  he  who  can  steal  the  bright  moments  of  their  dura 
tion  from  the  stubborn  realities  of  existence. 

I  have  seen  some  borne  on  with  wind  and  tide  in  their 
favor,  while  I,  who  started  with  the  same  bright  prospects 
before  me,  have  been  left  behind  in  the  race.  I  have  had  my 
hopes  and  schemes  and  projects,  and  have  seen  them  blighted 
and  destroyed.  Those  whom  I  trusted  have  proved  false, 
and  those  whom  I  have  loved  have  been  gathered  in  their 
graves,  until  I  am  wandering  almost  alone  through  life; 


12  THE    ATTORNEY. 

but  I  have  endeavored  to  forget  the  past,  to  shut  out  the 
feelings  of  distrust  which  at  times  would  gather  around  my 
heart,  and  to  look  forward  with  a  hopeful  eye  to  the  future, 

As  it  is  my  wish,  if  possible,  to  secure  a  corner  in  your 
good-will,  I  will  enter  somewhat  into  the  details  of  my  life 
and  history.  My  father  was  a  distinguished  schoolmaster  in 
this  city ;  an  eccentric  and  stern  man,  with  a  cold,  calculat 
ing  eye,  a  heavy  hand,  and  a  strong  antipathy  to  all  dull- 
headed  boys.  He  took  a  pride  in  the  progress  of  his  pupils ; 
he  felt  that  he  owed  a  debt  to  their  parents,  and  faithfully 
he  discharged  it.  His  payments,  however,  were  in  various 
coin.  The  bright  boys  were  praised,  the  young  boys  encour 
aged,  and  the  idle  ones  most  assiduously  flogged.  During 
school-hours,  his  discipline  knew  no  distinction  between 
myself  and  the  others.  Whatever  may  have  been  his  pa 
ternal  feelings,  I  was  too  much  of  an  idler  not  to  merit 
his  castigation ;  and  many  were  the  efforts  made  to  stir  up 
my  intellects,  by  repeated  and  severe  applications  to  a  part 
of  my  person  in  which,  even  to  this  day,  I  cannot  believe 
that  they  were  situated.  I  was  a  stubborn,  stalwart  boy ; 
and  when  wincing  under  the  rod,  I  vowed  to  myself  that  I 
would  pay  off  the  score  when  I  became  a  man ;  but  I  found 
the  grave  a  strange  queller  of  angry  feelings.  My  father 
died ;  and  when  I  saw  the  green  turf  piled  upon  his  last 
resting-place,  I  wept  in  very  bitterness  and  desolation  of 
heart.  He  had  always  been  a  frugal  man,  and  by  hard  labor 
had  gained  a  bare  competence,  which  at  his  death  became 
mine.  With  this  I  set  out  in  life  to  seek  my  fortune.  It  is 
useless  to  detail  the  success  of  my  various  pursuits.  Years 
had  passed  on,  and  I  had  tugged  at  the  oar  with  others  like 
myself,  until  I  at  length  found  myself  an  old  man,  with  the 
great  task  of  life  as  incomplete  as  ever. 

Shortly  after  my  father's  death,  I  took  an  office  in  a  dark, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  13 

gloomy  building  in  the  neighborhood  of  Wall-street,  where  I 
kept  like  a  spider  in  my  nest,  on  the  look-out  for  the  unwary ; 
but  month  after  month  waned  ;  my  desk,  and  the  few  books 
which  formed  my  library,  became  covered  with  dust ;  the 
walls  were  hung  with  cobwebs  ;  and  the  ink  dried  in  my 
inkstand,  but  no  one  broke  in  upon  my  solitude.  I  had 
formed  an  acquaintance  with  an  old  and  eccentric  man,  who 
occupied  a  small  room  in  the  upper  part  of  the  same  house. 
He  was  a  crabbed,  crusty  fellow,  grim  and  gaunt  in  ap 
pearance,  very  proud  and  reserved,  and  equally  poor.  His 
troubles  and  wants,  however,  he  kept  to  himself.  A  kind  of 
acquaintance  grew  up  between  us,  which  gradually  ripened 
into  something  like  intimacy.  At  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning  he  quitted  his  room  and  locked  the  door,  carefully 
putting  the  key  in  his  pocket,  and  at  the  same  hour  in  the 
evening  he  returned.  He  was  a  man  of  precise  habits,  and 
always  as  the  clock  struck  seven  I  heard  his  heavy  step  on 
the  stairs.  What  he  did  for  a  livelihood  I  never  asked.  All 
that  I  knew,  or  cared  to  know,  was,  that  he  was  one  of  the 
few  who  ever  seemed  to  value  either  my  friendship  or  my 
acquaintance. 

At  length  he  grew  ill  and  took  to  his  bed.  I  attended  him 
as  well  as  I  could.  The  pittance  which  I  possessed  I  spent 
freely,  to  obtain  for  him  the  few  things  necessary  for  a  sick 
bed.  I  watched  with  feverish  anxiety  during  the  whole  of 
his  illness,  but  he  finally  died  ;  suffering  to  the  last  without 
a  murmur. 

I  remember  well  the  day  of  his  death.  It  was  a  fine 
sunny  morning  in  May  :  there  was  a  mellow  warmth  in  the 
soft  breeze,  as  it  came  through  the  window ;  and  as  it  played 
with  the  long  gray  hair  which  hung  over  the  weather-beaten 
and  iron-cast  countenance  of  the  invalid,  and  fanned  his 
pale  cheek,  his  spirits  seemed  to  revive.  He  spoke  cheer- 


14  THE    ATTORNEY. 

fully  of  the  future,  and  said  that  he  had  thought  of  making 
his  Will,  and  had  intended  to  have  given  me  all  he  had ;  that 
it  was  little  enough — a  few  old  papers  in  a  trunk  which  he 
pointed  out,  and  which,  he  said,  had  enabled  him  to  wile 
away  many  a  weary  hour.  But  we  will  speak  of  this  here 
after.  '  Stop ! '  said  he,  '  the  clock  is  striking.'  The  deep 
solemn  sound  of  a  church  clock  echoed  through  the  room, 

and  he  counted — 'One — two  —  three  —  four — five ' 

His  voice  stopped :  still  the  clock  tolled  on.  I  turned  toward 
him :  there  was  a  change  on  his  features :  his  head  had 
fallen  back  on  the  pillow ;  the  breeze  was  still  playing 
through  his  hair,  but  the  life-dream  of  the  poor  mortal  who 
had  been  listening  to  the  deep  notes  of  that  bell  had  ended ; 
and  he  had  passed  away,  to  be  seen  here  no  more  for  ever. 

After  his  death,  I  made  an  effort  to  get  on  in  my  profes 
sion.  I  frequented  the  courts  of  justice,  attempted  to  elbow 
my  way  among  the  crowd,  and  to  assume  an  air  of  business ; 
but  it  was  not  natural,  and  I  suspect  the  counterfeit  must 
have  been  detected.  Others  succeeded  in  the  same  way,  but 
I  remained  as  empty-handed  as  ever.  This  effort  was  my 
last.  I  felt  that  the  seal  was  set  to  my  fate ;  and  determined 
to  withdraw  myself  from  a  pursuit  which,  to  me,  brought 
nothing  but  pain  and  mortification,  and  to  content  myself 
with  the  little  that  I  had  received  from  my  father. 

This  is  but  a  slight  sketch  of  the  early  part  of  a  life  which 
has  been  full  of  change,  and  full  of  good  and  evil. 

I  now  occupy  a  room  in  the  upper  part  of  a  large  build 
ing  in  which  a  murder  was  committed  some  years  since ; 
and  as  it  has  ever  since  had  the  reputation  of  being  haunted, 
the  landlord,  a  liberal  man,  was  willing  that  I  should  peril 
my  body  or  soul  for  the  benefit  of  his  property  —  at  a  low 
rent.  The  room  is  dark  and  dingy,  with  high  ceiling  and 
time-stained  walls.  I  found  a  profusion  of  musty  law  papers 


THE    ATTORNEY.  15 

scattered  about,  a  few  broken  chairs,  a  table  on  which  were 
the  stumps  of  several  pens,  and  scraps  of  paper,  all  covered 
with  dust.  The  grate  still  contained  the  cinders  of  the  fire 
which  burned  there  at  the  time  of  the  murder.  Whatever 
was  useful,  or  worth  having,  had  been  carried  off,  until  no 
thing  was  left  except  the  few  articles  which  I  have  mentioned. 
Dreary  as  the  room  seemed,  I  was  glad  to  have  a  place  which 
I  could  call  my  own  ;  and  having  rather  a  taste  for  strange 
and  out-of-the-way  places,  I  closed  with  the  terms  of  my 
landlord,  and  settled  myself  down  in  my  new  abode.  By 
piecemeal  I  have  become  familiar  with  the  history  of  the 
building,  and  of  the  dark  transaction  which  brought  it  into 
ill  repute ;  but  it  is  too  long  a  tale  for  the  present,  and  may 
perhaps  be  reserved  for  some  future  number. 

From  the  window  I  have  an  extensive  prospect  of  weather 
cocks  and  chimneys ;  and  being  within  view  of  the  City 
Hall  and  of  the  '  Five  Points,'  and  within  hearing  of  nine 
teen  fire-bells,  there  is  a  comfort  in  my  situation,  Mr.  Editor, 
which  you  probably  cannot  appreciate. 

Opposite  my  dwelling,  also,  is  a  fire-engine,  which  is  in  a 
constant  state  of  preparation  for  emergencies,  to  the  great 
mystification  of  myself  and  of  several  small  boys,  which  latter 
daily  collect  on  the  side-walks,  and  look  with  profound  curi 
osity  into  the  dim  recesses  of  the  engine-room.  Never  had 
engine  such  devoted  attendants.  Long  and  profound  con 
sultations  are  held  respecting  the  health  of  the  '  machine ' 
by  young  men  in  pea-jackets ;  the  wheels  are  greased  three 
times  a  day,  and  about  as  often,  the  object  of  their  solicitude 
is  gently  conducted  around  the  block,  by  way  of  exercise, 
while  scouting-parties  of  young  men,  in  straight  hats,  with 
ringlets  in  front  of  their  ears,  solicitous  for  the  welfare  of  the 
insurance  companies,  walk  to  the  corners  to  see  if  they  can 
discover  indications  of  a  fire  is  any  direction.  If  none  are 


16  THE    ATTORNEY. 

to  be  seen,  they  walk  moodily  back,  and  form  a  knot  in  front 
of  the  engine-house.  The  last  fire  is  then  talked  over,  and 
the  merits  of  each  '  machine '  are  discussed.  I  am  sorely 
afraid,  from  what  I  overhear,  that  our  city  is  but  scurvily 
provided  with  fire-engines,  as  it  seems  by  their  conversation 
that  every  *  machine '  in  the  city,  except  their  own,  is  utterly 
useless,  and  not  a  fire  has  taken  place,  whose  extinguishment 
is  not  owing  to  the  superior  merits  of  their  engine,  and  the 
superior  energy  of  its  followers. 

I  have  no  influence  in  high  quarters,  or  I  would  certainly 
recommend  this  particular  company  to  the  peculiar  notice  of 
the  corporation ;  for  I  think  that  something  should  be  done 
for  these  public  benefactors  ;  and  I  am  somewhat  surprised, 
after  all  their  usefulness,  that  no  body  should  make  honorable 
mention  of  it  except  themselves. 

The  evil  repute  of  my  dwelling  is  a  sure  protection  against 
all  intrusion ;  and  from  having  lived  here  so  long  without 
injury,  the  neighbors  begin  to  look  at  me  askance ;  and  seem 
to  think  that  one  who  can  remain  unscathed  amidst  the  ter 
rors  of  the  haunted  house,  is  himself  no  better  than  he 
should  be. 

For  this  reason,  I  have  formed  but  two  acquaintances. 
The  first  is  a  small  dog  of  the  neighborhood,  who  seems  to 
have  no  owner,  and  who,  as  a  great  favor,  manages  to  drop 
in  about  meal-times.  I  suspect  him  of  being  a  mongrel,  for 
he  is  a  long-bodied  fellow,  with  a  broad  chest,  remarkably 
short  fore-legs,  set  wide  apart,  and  slightly  bowed  outward ; 
and  as  he  sits  in  front  of  me,  he  is  not  unlike  one  of  those 
old-fashioned  andirons  which  we  sometimes  meet  with  in 
country  kitchens.  He  has  a  long  and  stiff  tail,  which  he 
generally  carries  like  a  flag-staff,  at  right  angles  to  his  body, 
and  has  a  grave  and  melancholy  cast  of  countenance ;  but 
notwithstanding,  I  strongly  suspect  that  he  is  an  arrant 


THE    ATTORNEY.  17 

knave ;  for  from  my  window  I  have  occasionally  detected 
him  in  acts  of  larceny,  which  give  me  but  a  poor  opinion  of 
his  morals,  and  which,  long  since,  would  have  utterly  ruined 
the  reputation  of  a  dog  of  less  devout  exterior.  However,  a 
lonely  old  man  like  myself  can  pardon  many  things  in  a 
friend,  though  that  friend  be  but  a  dog ;  but  it  does  appear 
suspicious  that  he  should  invariably  drop  in  at  meal-time. 
It  sometimes  seems  to  me  that  he  has  no  better  opinion  of 
me  than  the  rest  of  the  neighbors ;  and  being  a  dissolute 
fellow  himself,  has  set  me  down  for  one  of  the  same 
kidney. 

In  making  his  visits,  he  always  pauses  at  the  door  of  the 
room,  and  throwing  his  head  on  one  side,  with  one  eye  partly 
closed,  seems  engaged  in  calculating  my  height  in  feet  and 
inches,  after  which,  he  stalks  solemnly  across  the  threshold, 
and  seats  himself  directly  in  front  of  me,  waiting  to  be 
noticed. 

The  other  acquaintance  of  whom  I  spoke,  is  a  bright-faced 
little  boy,  about  ten  years  of  age,  who,  in  spite  of  the  terrors 
of  the  dwelling,  breaks  in  upon  my  solitude,  and  during  the 
short  time  that  he  remains  here,  the  whole  place  assumes  an 
air  of  cheerfulness.  He  is  a  glad-eyed  little  fellow,  with  a 
merry  laugh,  that  seemed  to  gush  out  from  the  very  bottom 
of  his  heart :  he  is  full  of  curiosity,  asking  a  thousand  ques 
tions,  and  will  sit  by  the  hour  listening  to  stories  of  my  past 
life.  At  first  his  visits  gave  great  offence  to  the  dog,  who 
immediately  became  particularly  assiduous  in  his  atten 
tions  ;  but  finding  that  the  boy  did  not  drop  in  at  meal 
times,  he  has  become  reconciled  to  his  company,  and  even 
permits  him  to  pat  him  on  the  head ;  though,  notwithstand 
ing  all  his  deference  to  me,  I  doubt  whether  even  /  could 
venture  to  meddle  with  that  tall  upright  mast  which  he  calls 
his  tail. 


18  THE    ATTORNEY. 

It  is  strange  that  a  friendship  should  thus  spring  up  be 
tween  a  young  child  just  bursting  into  life,  and  surrounded 
by  gay  anticipations,  and  a  gray-headed  man,  whose  dream 
is  over ;  and  who,  while  he  listens  to  the  hopes  and  prospects 
of  his  young  companion,  feels  that,  with  every  year  of  his 
life,  one  by  one,  they  will  vanish,  to  brighten  his  journey  no 
more.  I  have  often  thought,  as  I  listened  to  his  joyous  voice, 
of  the  troubles  and  trials  that  must  "await  him,  when  he  goes 
forth  to  join  in  the  great  struggle  of  life  ;  of  his  bitterness 
of  heart,  as  friend  after  friend  is  missed  from  his  accustomed 
place ;  of  the  reverses  which  he  must  meet ;  of  the  treachery 
he  must  experience,  where  he  looks  for  friendship  ;  of  cold 
ness  where  he  looks  for  love ;  and  of  the  deep  disappoint 
ments  which  lurk  about  his  path,  until  I  gradually  see  his 
open  and  confiding  nature  growing  more  and  more  morose  ; 
his  gentle  disposition  gathering  in  its  energies,  and  nerving 
them  for  strife ;  and  the  warm,  bright  heart  which  now  only 
answers  to  the  gushes  of  love  and  joy,  damming  up  its  affec 
tions,  and  hardening  itself  to  stand  the  brunt  of  the  world. 
It  is  melancholy  to  think  that  these  things  must  be ;  but  it 
is  the  course  of  nature.  The  flowers  of  spring  which  unfold 
their  beauties  to  hail  the  young  year,  wither  at  the  scorching 
sun  of  summer,  and  yield  their  places  to  others  of  a  sterner 
growth  ;  until  the  unrelenting  rigor  of  winter  comes  on,  and 
leaves  all  in  darkness  and  desolation. 

I  however  must  bring  this  letter  to  a  close.  It  was  my  in 
tention,  Mr.  Editor,  to  have  entered  more  at  length  into  details 
respecting  myself;  but,  with  the  garrulity  of  age,  I  have 
rambled  on,  without  reflecting  that  I  might  be  intruding 
upon  the  patience  of  another,  and  that  my  morbid  feelings 

are  matters  of  little  interest  to  any  except  myself .  I 

am  suddenly  interrupted  by  an  alarm  of  fire.  The  nineteen 
fire-bells  are  ringing ;  the  engine  opposite  has  thundered  up 


THE    ATTORNEY.  19 

the  street ;  its  '  company '  are  yelling  like  Bedlamites ;  a 
train  of  ragged  boys  are  turning  the  corner,  in  full  cry : 
several  small  curs  have  become  quite  clamorous ;  and  my 
own  acquaintance,  the  dog,  awakened  by  the  din,  after  utter 
ing  a  loud  bark  of  surprise,  has  scampered  at  full  gallop  from 
the  room,  and  is  now  racing  down  stairs  as  if  he  had  ten 
legs  instead  of  four.  It  is  one  of  my  rules  never  to  miss  see 
ing  a  fire ;  so  I  must  bid  you  farewell ;  and  perhaps,  at  some 
future  time,  I  may  enter  more  at  length  into  the  details  of 
the  life  of  JOHN  QUOD. 


IN  my  last  communication,  Mr.  EDITOR,  I  mentioned  that 
I  occupied  a  house  which  had  once  been  the  scene  of  a  fear 
ful  deed,  had  gradually  been  shunned  of  all,  and  gained  an 
evil  name.  With  that  strange  zest  for  the  fantastic  which 
seems  to  have  clung  to  me  from  my  birth,  the  very  circum 
stance  which  prejudiced  others  against  it,  found  it  favor  in 
my  eyes.  The  spectral  and  solitary  chambers,  the  long  and 
gloomy  passages,  the  creaking  stairs,  the  dark  and  sepulchral 
basements,  all  gave  it  an  air  of  wild,  yet  to  me,  fascinating 
mystery ;  and  I  have  sat  by  the  hour  and  listened  to  the 
wind,  as  it  wailed  through  the  dark  entries ;  and  to  the  house 
itself,  which  seemed  to  moan  like  some  old  and  decrepit 
human  being.  At  such  times,  I  cannot  overcome  a  feeling 
of  superstition.  I  people  the  place  with  phantoms  of  those 
who  lived  here  before  me,  and  who  now  are  dead ;  the  voice 
of  the  sighing  blast  sounds  like  the  whispered  sorrows  of 
their  troubled  spirits  ;  and  as  my  mind  wanders  on,  until  it 
rests  upon  the  last  bloody  act  which  consigned  the  house 
to  solitude,  I  confess  that  a  strange  feeling  of  fear  creeps 


20  THE    ATTORNEY. 

over  me.  In  moments  like  these,  I  am  obliged  to  throw 
open  the  window,  and  look  out  upon  the  calm,  clear  sky,  and 
listen  to  the  hum  of  the  living  world,  before  I  can  divest 
myself  of  these  dreary  fancies.  I  am  now  become  familiar 
with  all  the  crannies  and  'hiding-places  within  its  walls,  and 
begin  to  relish  the  solemn  silence  which  sleeps  in  its  deserted 
rooms.  The  profound  and  somewhat  superstitious  venera 
tion  with  which  I  am  regarded  by  the  neighbors,  begins  to 
please  my  fancy ;  and  I  am  amused  at  the  awe  with  which 
a  group  of  small  boys  will  collect  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street,  and  watch  me,  as  I  sit  at  the  open  window  during 
the  fine  afternoons. 

Shortly  after  establishing  myself  here,  I  set  to  work  to 
trace  out  the  history  of  the  house.  During  the  whole  time 
that  I  have  been  thus  engaged,  several  persons  have  cordially 
volunteered  their  aid.  In  particular,  I  am  much  indebted  to 
a  small  gentleman,  with  green  spectacles  and  thin  legs,  who 
is  attached  to  the  police  of  the  city,  and  who  heard  the  whole 
matter  detailed  at  second-hand  by  a  distinguished  constable. 
Other  facts  I  gleaned  from  a  fat  lady  who  sells  vegetables  at 
a  corner  near  me ;  and  being  a  great  gossip,  she  told  me  the 
whole  story  while  I  was  purchasing  a  bunch  of  radishes. 

No  sooner  was  it  noised  abroad  that  I  was  engaged  in  fer 
reting  out  the  history  of  the  murder,  than  information  of  all 
kinds  came  pouring  in  upon  me ;  much  that  was  useful,  and 
some  that  I  cared  nothing  about.  In  particular,  I  remember 
a  gentleman  in  a  snuff-colored  suit,  who  stopped  me  in  the 
street  and  inquired  if  I  were  Mr.  Quod,  and  if  I  were  en 
gaged  in  writing  the  history  of  the  haunted  house.  On  my 
replying  in  the  affirmative,  he  thrust  his  hand  in  his  pocket, 
produced  a  large  red  pocket-book,  and  taking  from  it  a  paper, 
which  he  placed  in  my  hand,  *  There,  Sir,'  said  he,  '  there !  — 
you  could  never  have  got  along  without  that !  It 's  an  epi- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  21 

taph  which  I  wrote  on  the  murderer.  Say  nothing  about 
it;  it's  a  present  —  altogether  a  present.  You  may  use  it 
as  you  please ;  though,  if  the  history  is  ever  in  print,  I  think 
it  would  not  be  amiss  to  put  it  in  the  title-page,  then  inter 
sperse  it  once  or  twice  in  the  course  of  the  work,  and  finally 
bring  it  in  with  a  grand  flourish  just  over  the  '  FINIS.'  Gad  ! 
Sir,  how  it  will  make  the  thing  sell!  I'll  buy  ten  copies 
myself.'  As  soon  as  he  gave  me  an  opportunity,  I  endea 
vored  as  delicately  as  possible  to  excuse  myself,  smoothing 
over  the  refusal  as  well  as  I  could.  He  looked  at  me  in 
blank  amazement,  and  without  saying  another  word,  took 
the  paper  from  my  hand,  replaced  it  in  his  pocket-book, 
which  he  carefully  deposited  in  the  bottom  of  his  breeches 
pocket ;  and  then  giving  me  a  compassionate  glance,  he  tap 
ped  his  forehead,  and  nodding  to  himself,  as  if  to  intimate 
that  all  was  not  right  there  with  me,  walked  off. 

From  the  several  authentic  sources  just  mentioned  I  have 
collected  the  sad  facts  connected  with  my  dwelling.  They 
form  a  long  story,  and  I  have  felt  a  strong  interest  in  tracing 
out  their  tangled  course.  A  short,  abrupt  detail  would  bo 
but  a  dull  affair,  so  I  have  dressed  it  up,  divided  it  into  chap 
ters,  and  present  it  as  you  find  it  in  the  following  pages. 

JOHN  QUOD. 


THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    I. 

A  FEW  years  since,  in  that  festering  neighborhood  which 
lies  to  the  north-east  of  the  City  Hall  stood  a  huge  wooden 
building,  whose  great  height  and  dilapidation  gave  it  a 
menacing  appearance  to  passers-by.  Its  exterior  was  faded 
and  bleached  by  time  and  storm;  and  from  neglect  and 
decay,  the  upper  stories  had  settled  and  projected  forward ; 
so  that  in  the  dim  nights,  when  its  tall  outline  stood  relieved 
against  the  sky,  it  looked  like  a  gaunt  giant,  bent  with  age 
and  decrepitude.  High,  narrow  windows,  in  many  places 
broken  or  begrimed  with  the  dust  of  years,  admitted  a  faint 
uncertain  light  into  the  unfurnished  rooms,  the  walls  of 
which  were  dark  and  discolored,  and  hung  with  cobwebs. 
Occupants  it  once  had ;  and  the  time  had  been  when  this 
old  house  had  held  up  its  head  and  lorded  it  over  its  more 
humble  neighbors  :  but  that  time  was  gone  by ;  and  now  it 
was  the  home  only  of  the  spider  and  the  rat.  There  was 
however  one  exception.  This  was  an  attorney,  who  had  a 
suite  of  offices  at  the  end  of  a  long,  dark  passage  on  the 
second  floor.  He  was  the  only  human  tenant  of  the  house, 
and  even  he  confined  himself  to  his  own  portion  of  it.  He 


24  THE    ATTORNEY. 

never  ventured  in  the  upper  stories  ;  and  except  for  the  pur 
pose  of  going  in  or  coming  out,  visited  no  other  part  than 
his  own  rooms.  There  were  dark  rumors  concerning  him, 
and  many  shunned  him  as  they  did  his  house.  It  is  with 
him  however  that  we  have  to  do ;  and  the  opening  scene 
of  our  tale  is  in  the  two  dim  apartments  which  he  then 
tenanted. 

His  age  must  have  been  forty,  though  the  deep  furrows 
which  ploughed  his  high,  narrow  forehead,  and  the  haggard 
and  wasted  look  of  his  face,  might  have  added  ten  years  to 
his  appearance.  His  eyes  were  deep-set  and  glittering,  of 
that  jetty,  opaque  character  which  seem  to  emit  their  bril 
liancy  from  the  surface,  and  to  enable  them  to  peer  into  the 
secrets  of  every  one,  without  reflecting  any  of  their  own. 
He  was  under  the  middle  size,  and  of  that  wiry  make  which 
indicates  great  powers  of  endurance  rather  than  positive 
bodily  strength.  Piles  of  loose  papers  were  scattered  care 
lessly  on  a  table  at  his  side,  and  several  open  law-books, 
which  appeared  to  have  been  in  recent  use,  were  lying  on 
different  chairs  about  him.  In  the  recesses  of  the  office  were 
huge  cases  of  pigeon-holes,  filled  with  the  dust-covered 
papers  of  ancient,  hopeless,  and  perhaps  long-forgotten  law 
suits.  Book-cases  of  dingy  volumes  were  ranged  against  the 
walls ;  massive  folios  were  piled  in  corners  of  the  room ;  a 
profusion  of  torn  papers  were  scattered  over  the  carpet,  and 
added  not  a  little  to  its  disorder.  Upon  the  table  stood  a 
solitary  candle,  whose  faint  light  scarcely  dispelled  the  gloom 
in  its  immediate  vicinity,  and  gave  a  murky,  spectral  appear 
ance  to  the  tall  book-cases  and  furniture,  indistinctly  visible 
beyond. 

For  some  time,  the  attorney  sat  with  his  thin  fingers  rest 
ing  upon  his  knees,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  fire.  By 
degrees,  his  brow  grew  anxious,  and  ho  compressed  his  lips 


THE    ATTORNEY.  25 

tightly,  moving  his  head  from  side  to  side,  and  muttering  to 
himself.  At  length  he  rose  from  his  seat,  and  stepping  to  the 
door,  locked  it,  trying  the  knob  to  see  if  it  was  secure.  He 
then  shaded  the  windows  to  prevent  the  light  from  being 
visible  from  without.  This  done,  he  took  from  a  drawer  a 
large  brass  key,  and  drew  from  an  iron  safe  in  the  wall  a 
bundle  of  papers,  from  which  he  selected  one,  and  replacing 
the  others,  seated  himself  at  the  table.  He  unfolded  the 
paper,  and  held  it  up  to  the  light,  narrowly  examining  the 
hand-writing,  and  particularly  the  signature  attached  to  it. 
Apparently  not  satisfied  with  this,  he  got  up  and  searched 
among  other  papers,  until  he  found  one  bearing  the  same 
signature. 

'  'T  is  very  like ! '  said  he,  after  a  careful  comparison  of 
the  two  ;  'he  'd  swear  to  it  himself;  and  if  I  could  but  find 
some  fool  whose  conscience  is  not  over-scrupulous,  this  would 
make  me  !  I  must  find  that  man  —  I  must  find  him ;  ay, 
though  the  Devil  himself  bring  him  ! ' 

A  single  knock  at  the  door,  upon  the  heels  of  his  speech, 
so  sharp  and  sudden  that  it  seemed  a  response  to  it,  so  startled 
him,  that  he  let  the  paper  fall.  The  next  moment  he  caught 
it  up  and  folded  it,  without  attending  to  the  summons  until 
he  had  replaced  it  in  the  safe,  locked  the  door,  and  restored 
the  key  to  its  former  place.  The  knock  was  repeated. 
Who  's  there  ? '  he  demanded. 

*  Come  and  see,'  replied  a  harsh  voice  from  without ;  and 
the  knocking  was  renewed  with  an  energy  that  said  little  for 
the  patience  of  the  person  on  the  outside,  and  which  threat 
ened  in  a  short  time  to  leave  no  obstacle  to  his  entrance. 

'  It 's  you,  Wilkins,  is  it  ? '  said  he,  in  an  altered  tone. 

At  the  same  time  he  unlocked  the  door,  and  admitted  a  tall, 

powerful  man,  clad  in  an  overcoat  of  coarse,  shaggy  cloth, 

and  with  his  hat  slouched  over  his  eyes.     His  face  was  pale 

2 


26  THE    ATTORNEY. 

and  haggard,  his  jaws  large  and  prominent,  and  his  eyes 
flashed  from  their  dark  caverns  with  sullen  ferocity,  like  those 
of  a  hyena. 

*  You  are  the  very  man  I  wanted,'  said  the  attorney,  as  he 
came  in,  at  the  same  time  shutting  and  locking  the  door* 

His  visitor  strode  up  to  the  fire,  and  drawing  his  coat,  with 
a  slight  shiver,  more  tightly  over  his  shoulders,  extended  his 
hands  towards  the  flame. 

'  Put  on  more  coal,'  said  he ;  '  this  is  a  night  to  freeze 
one's  soul :  and  whatever  I  am  now,  you  have  made  enough 
out  of  me  to  keep  me  from  dying  of  cold.' 

The  attorney  was  apparently  accustomed  to  such  language , 
for  he  made  no  other  reply  than  to  request  his  visitor  to  be 
seated,  while  he  replenished  the  grate.  Then,  seating  him 
self,  and  turning  to  him,  he  said : 

'  What's  on  foot  now  ?  Whenever  you  darken  this  door, 
I  know  there 's  something  to  be  done.  What  is  it  ? ' 

'The  same  that  I  spoke  to  you  about  before  —  that  girl,' 
replied  Wilkins,  fixing  his  dark  eyes  on  the  pale,  care-fur 
rowed  face  of  the  other.  'Am  I  to  live  for  ever  like  a  coupled 
hound  ;  or  can  the  chain  be  broken  ?  Have  you  no  remedy  — 
no  plan  ?  Cannot  the  Devil,  who  is  always  at  your  right 
hand,  help  you  to  something?'1 

The  attorney  slightly  elevated  his  eye-brows,  and  muttered 
something  about  '  patience,'  though  he  watched  the  counte 
nance  of  the  other  like  a  cat. 

'  Patience ! '  exclajmed  Wilkins,  rising,  and  speaking 
through  his  clenched  teeth  ;  '  I  have  had  patience ;  and  what 
has  it  brought  ?  It  has  reduced  me  from  competence  to  what 
I  am  —  a  starving,  wretched,  and  almost  houseless  beggar. 
It  has  worn  me  to  the  bone.  It  has  destroyed  my  hopes, 
and  now  it  is  gnawing  into  my  very  soul.  '  Patience ! J 
Hark  ye,  Bolton,  no  more  of  that.  If  you  cannot  help  me, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  27 

I  can  help  myself — and  I  will.  But  it's  hard  to — to — 

You  know  what.' 

'  To  what  ? '  asked  the  attorney,  looking  at  him,  as  if  in 
doubt  of  his  meaning. 

'  That]  said  Wilkins,  opening  his  vest,  and  touching  the 
handle  of  a  concealed  dirk. 

'That!' 

*  Yes,  THAT  ! '   returned  the  visitor,  savagely,  setting  his 
teeth,  *  or  shall  I  speak  more  plainly  ?     To  cut  her  throat. 
Do  you  understand  me  now  ? ' 

*  Hush ! '    said  Bolton,  glancing  suspiciously  about  the 
room,  his  thin  features  turning  as  rigid  as  if  cut  from  marble. 
'Don't  speak  so  loud.     No,  no,  you  must  not  do  that. 
That's  murder;  the  punishment  is  death.     Do   you  hear 
that  ?  — death  !     I  '11  have  no  hand  in  it,' 

The  brow  of  the  bolder  villain  darkened,  and  his  eyes 
flashed  fire.  Leaning  forward,  and  spreading  out  his  fingers 
in  the  very  face  of  the  attorney,  until  they  resembled  the 
talons  of  a  hawk,  he  slowly  clenched  them  together,  till  they 
seemed  buried  in  each  other,  and  said  in  a  voice  which,  though 
but  a  whisper,  was  distinctly  audible :  *  If  you  dare  to  fail 
me  now,  Bolton,  or  betray  me,  or  show  to  others  by  word  or 
whisper,  or  even  by  look,  what  I  want  or  what  you  know, 
I'll  place  you  where  you'll  rot — ay,  rot !  I'll ' 

*  Hist,  George ! '  said  the  attorney,  starting  up,  and  seizing 
him  by  the  arm ;  *  did  you  hear  nothing  ? ' 

Both  listened  attentively. 

'  Nothing  but  the  wind  howling  through  this  old  rookery,' 
said  Wilkins  :  '  Did  you  hear  what  I  said  ? ' 

'  Yes,  I  heard,  and  I  '11  not  fail  you.  Why,  George,'  con 
tinued  he,  assuming  an  air  of  frankness  that  sat  indifferently 
on  him,  *  are  we  not  old  friends  —  tried  friends  ?  Have  I 


28  THE    ATTORNEY. 

not  stood  by  you  when  none  other  would  ?  You  have  not 
forgotten  the  last  time  —  the  note  for  a  thousand  dollars 

'  No  more  of  that,'  interrupted  the  other,  impatiently. 

'  We  know  each  other  too  well]  continued  he,  laying  an 
emphasis  on  the  last  words,  which  seemed  to  indicate  that 
the  acquaintance,  though  intimate,  had  not  increased  his 
confidence.  *  But  I  did  not  come  here  to  bandy  words  or  to 
be  reminded  of  6ld  grievances  ;  I  came  to  get  a  remedy  for 
new  ones.  The  only  question  is,  will  you  help  me  or  not  ? 
This  girl  to  whom  I  am  married  is  in  my  way.  I  must  be 
rid  of  her,  and  I  have  corne  to  you  to  do  it  for  me.  Will 
you?' 

Before  Wilkins  finished  speaking,  the  attorney  had  recov 
ered  the  habitual  sneer  that  sat  upon  his  thin  lip,  and  replied 
quietly,  and  with  an  appearance  of  decision,  which  he  felt 
sure  would  influence  his  companion  : 

'  If  you  mean  murder,  I  will  not.  I  have  already  risked 
much  for  you,  and  will  risk  more,  but  I  '11  not  risk  my  life. 
Besides,  there  are  other  means  fully  as  good,  and  which  do 
not  lead  to  a  halter.' 

'  Well !  what  are  they  ?  The  safer  the  better.  But  listen 
to  me.  I  will  be  rid  of  that  girl !  by  G-d,  I  will !  —  even 

though '  He  paused  ;  but  the  expression  of  bitter  and 

vindictive  hate  which  shone  in  every  feature,  and  from  which 
the  attorney,  steeped  as  he  was  in  wickedness,  quailed  as 
from  the  glance  of  an  evil  spirit,  and  the  quick  motion  of 
his  arm,  as  if  in  the  act  of  stabbing,  explained  his  purpose. 

'It  must  not  be  —  it  must  not! '  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone 
which  had  lost  much  of  its  former  confidence.  '  There  are 
other  ways,  and  they  must  be  thought  of.  A  divorce  will 
leave  you  as  free  as  you  can  desire.  Do  you  wish  to  be  rid 
only  of  her,  or  of  the  knot  ? ' 


THE    A  TTORNEY.  29 

'  Of  both  !  of  both !  If  ever  man  loathed  woman,  I  loathe 
her.  There  is  but  one  thought  in  life;  there  is  but  one 
dream  when  my  eyes  are  closed,  and  that  is  of  hatred ;  and 
there  is  but  one  person  in  that  thought  and  dream,  and  that 
is  Mr/' 

'  This  is  a  sad  affair  indeed,'  said  the  attorney. 

1  Sad ! '  said  Wilkins,  drawing  his  chair  more  closely  to 
that  of  the  lawyer,  and  speaking  in  a  whisper  ;  '  sad  !  —  it 's 
dreadful ;  it 's  wearing  away  my  life.  Bolton,  if  you  could 
but  look  into  this  bosom  and  see  its  bitterness,  hard,  callous 
as  you  are,  even  you  would  shudder.  There  are  moments 
when  it  seems  as  if  all  the  devils  in  hell  had  taken  possession 
of  me.  Yet  I  have  strange  fits  of  weakness  too.  I  '11  tell 
you  what  I  did  the  other  night.  I  had  thought  and  thought 
on  this  one  subject  ;  and  it  would  keep  running  into  my 
head,  that  if  she  were  out  of  the  way,  how  well  I  could  get 
on.  It  was  in  my  own  room,  at  midnight ;  and  there  she  lay, 
in  a  deep  sleep,  the  bed-clothes  thrown  partly  down,  and  her 
throat  bare.  I  know  not  how  it  was,  but  I  found  myself 
stealing  to  the  bed  with  this  dirk  in  my  hand,  and  I  held  the 
point  within  an  inch  of  her  bosom.  At  that  moment  she 
turned  in  her  sleep  and  said,  *  Dear  George,  God  bless  you ! ' 
Curse  me  if  I  could  strike  !  I  slunk  back  from  the  bed,  and 
blubbered  like  a  boy,  for  I  felt  strange  feelings  at  work,  which 
I  have  not  had  for  many  a  day.  I  'd  rather  not  spill  blood 
if  any  thing  else  can  be  done.  Gan't  we  send  her  abroad? 
You  know,  if  she  is  out  of  the  way,  there 's  nothing  between 
me  and  the  widow.  Once  let  me  get  her  fortune,  and  you 
shall  not  be  the  loser  by  it.' 

'  Can  she  prove  the  marriage  ? ' 

*  Beyond  a  doubt.' 

'  How  long  have  you  been  married  ? '  inquired  Bolton. 

1  Two  years.' 


30  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'And  is  she  true  to  you  ?  —  true  beyond  suspicion  ? '  asked 
the  lawyer,  looking  at  him  significantly. 

/  *  True  as  steel.     Why,  man,  will  you  believe  it  ?  —  in  spite 

of  all,  she  loves  me  ! ' 

'Ah ! '  said  the  attorney,  in  a  dissatisfied  tone,  *  that 's  bad. 
If  it  were  not  so,  and  she  had  another  lover,  and  it  could  be 

proved  • (he  spoke  slowly,  and  with,  great  meaning  in  his 

looks,)  the  Court  of  Chancery  would  grant  a  divorce,  and 
you  would  be  free.' 

1  Free  !  free  ! '  exclaimed  Wilkins,  springing  from  his  seat, 
as  one  from  whom  a  great  weight  had  just  been  lifted ; 
'  Free !  great  God !  let  me  be  free  once  again,  and  I  will  be 
a  different  man  —  an  honest  one.' 

The  attorney  smiled,  and  although  he  said  nothing,  there 
was  something  in  the  calm,  sarcastic  curl  of  his  lips  that 
stung  Wilkins  to  the  soul,  and  he  turned  fiercely  upon  him. 

'Ay,  I  repeat  it — an  honest  man.  What  have  you  to  say 
against  it  ? ' 

*  Nothing,'  said  Bolton,  drawing  toward  him  a  piece  of 
paper,  and  writing  on  it ;  '  there 's  what  I  must  have,  before 
I  meddle  in  the  matter.' 

Wilkins  took  it  and  read :  '  Two  thousand  dollars  down, 
and  five  thousand  more  when  you  get  the  widow.' 

*  Bolton ! '  said  he,  in  a  choked  voice,  *  this  is  too  bad. 
Two  thousand  dollars  !     I  have  not  ten  dollars  in  the  world. 
I  do  n't  know  what  your  drift  is,'  said  he,  suddenly  stopping, 
and  looking  steadily  in  the  face  of  the  lawyer, '  but  you  have 

a  d d  suspicious  look  to-night ;  and  there 's  something  in 

the  wind,  more  than  you  let  out :  beware  how  you  trifle  with 
me !     You  should  know  me  too  well  for  that.' 

Bolton  attempted  to  smile,  but  only  succeeded  in  produc 
ing  a  nervous  contraction  of  the  lip,  at  the  same  time  turn 
ing  deadly  pale :  at  length  he  said,  with  some  effort :  *  You 


THE    ATTORNEY.  31 

are  right,  I  have  something.  Wait !  I  hear  a  noise  in  the 
passage.' 

Taking  the  light,  he  unlocked  the  door,  and  traversed  the 
dark  entry  which  led  to  the  lower  floor.  Nothing  whatever 
was  visible  in  the  dim  light,  except  the  time-stained  walls, 
and  the  broad  chinks  between  the  dilapidated  planks.  On 
reentering  the  room,  he  went  to  each  window  and  closed  the 
shutters ;  after  which,  he  made  a  general  survey  of  the  office. 

'  There 's  no  body  ;  it  was  all  fancy,'  said  he,  replacing  the 
light  on  the  table.  '  Now,'  he  added,  '  I  will  speak  plainly. 
I  have  that  in  my  mind  which  you  have  on  yours  ;  a  plan 
to  mend  my  fortune.  Assist  me,  and  I  will  assist  you,  with 
out  fee  or  reward.  Swear  to  keep  my  secret,  and  I  will 
swear  to  keep  yours.' 

'What  mischieFs  hatching  now?'  asked  Wilkins,  sus 
piciously. 

'  Swear  first  to  keep  the  secret.' 

1  Well ;  here  I  swear ' 

1  That  will  not  do  ;  I  must  have  something  more  solemn.' 

'Well,  what  do  you  want  ?'  asked  Wilkins,  impatiently. 

'  Get  on  your  knees,  and  with  your  hands  raised  to  heaven, 
call  down  imprecations  on  your  head,  blight  upon  your  pros 
pects,  and  perdition  to  your  soul,  if  you  betray  me.  Then 
I'll  believe.' 

Without  remark,  and  with  a  solemnity  that  struck  awe 
even  to  the  hardened  heart  of  the  man  who  incited  him, 
Wilkins  knelt,  and  with  uplifted  hands,  and  eyes  turned  to 
ward  the  throne  of  the  great  Omnipotent,  called  down  upon 
himself  maledictions  which  made  the  blood  of  his  listener 
curdle. 

'  Enough ! '  said  Bolton,  relieved  by  the  conclusion  of  a 
ceremony  so  fearful.  Drawing  the  key  from  the  drawer,  and 
once  more  unlocking  the  iron  safe,  he  took  from  it  the  paper 


32  THE    A  TTURM  Ji  1  . 

which  had  been  so  hastily  deposited  there,  and  spread  it  on 
the  table. 

*  Here,'  said  he,  hurriedly  putting  a  pen  in  the  hand  of  tho 
other,  as  if  afraid  of  his  resolution  giving  way,  'just  sign 
that ;  put  your  name  there.     I'll  explain  afterward.' 

'  What  is  it  ?'  asked  Wilkins,  holding  the  pen  exactly  as 
it  was  placed  in  his  hand,  and  looking  at  the  attorney 
iiiMe;id  of  the  paper.  'Before  a  man  puts  his  name  to  a 
Iliiii'j;  like,  this,  li<;  likes  to  know  what  it  is.' 

*  Merely  a  will,'  said  Bolton,  nervously  ;  '  only  a  will.' 
'A  will  !     Whose?  — mine?' 

'  No ;  of  an  old  friend  of  mine,  John  Crawford.  I  want 
you  to  put  your  name  as  a  witness  to  its  execution.' 

Wilkiris  regarded  him  for  some  moments  with  a  perplexed 
expression,  but  gradually  light  seemed  to  break  in  upon  his 
mind. 

'Ah !  I  see ;  you  are  helping  him  take  care  of  his  pro 
perty,  and  you  want  me  to  witness  it  before  he  has  even  put 
his  own  name  to  it.  I  suppose  I  may  read  it,  to  make  sure 
it  is  n't  my  own,'  said  he,  running  his  eye  over  the  paper  : 
'Natural  daughter,  Ellen  Crawford;  five  thousand  —  all  the 
n  i,  residue,  and  remainder;'  umpli !  'both  real  and  per 
sonal  —  my  valued  friend,  Reuben  Bolton  —  sole  executor  — 

subscribed,  scaled,  declared,  and  published '  '  Bolton,' 

s.-ii«I  lie,  lowering  the  paper,  '  you  are  ad d  scoundrel ! ' 

'Perhaps  so,'  replied  the  attorney,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
'  but  what  are  you  ? ' 

'What  want  and  suffering  have  made  me.  You  have 
not  even  that  exeu  .e.' 

'  Perhaps  not.  You  know  now  the  terms  on  which  I  will 
assist  you.  John  Crawford  was  seized  with  apoplexy  this 
morning ;  before  to-morrow  he  will  be  in  his  coffin ;  and 
this  will  must  be  made  and  witnessed  be  inn;  (hen.  lean 


THE    ATTORNEY.  33 

imitate  his  signature  so  that  he  would  swear  to  it  kimself. 
I  will  put  it  at  the  end  of  this,  and  you  must  witness  it.' 

1  Well,  what  then  ? '  demanded  Wilkins,  suspiciously  ; 
1  suppose  the  old  man  dies  :  what  is  to  be  done  next  ? ' 

'  Little  or  nothing  ;  merely  swear  that  you  saw  him  sign 
it  —  a  few  other  trifling  matters ;  few  or  no  questions  will 
be  asked  ;  a  mere  form.  It  will  be  completed  in  five  minutes, 
and  you  will  get  the  widow  for  nothing.' 

1  Nothing !  Only  a  false  oath,  and  risk  of  being  enter 
tained  at  public  expense.  Do  you  call  that  nothing  ?  How 
ever,  I'll  do  it,'  said  he,  speaking  in  a  clear,  decided  tone. 
*  But  the  girl  —  will  she  be  quiet  ? ' 

*  What  can  she  do  ?     Will  she  not  be  penniless  ? ' 

*  Not  exactly.     There's  a  small  legacy  of  five  thousand, 
which  will  keep  the  life  in  a  pretty  long  law-suit ;  and  if  she 
should  happen  ito  be  litigious ' 

*  Curse  it !  I  never  thought  of  that ! '  exclaimed  Bolton, 
striking  his  hand  forward  with  an  air  of  vexed  impatience, 
and  taking  one  or  two  hasty  steps. 

'  Perhaps,'  suggested  Wilkins,  '  the  old  gentleman  intended 
to  make  a  later  will  without  the  legacy.' 

'  Yes,  yes,  so  he  did,'  said  Bolton,  laughing,  and  catching 
eagerly  at  the  suggestion.  *  We  '11  do  it  for  him,  and  you  '11 
witness  it  ? ' 

'Ay,  if  you  '11  unfetter  me,'  replied  Wilkins. 

*  It 's  a  bargain,'  said  the  attorney,  striking  his  hand  into 
the  open  palm  of  the  other ;  and  thus  was  their  iniquitous 
compact  sealed. 

As  if  by  consent,  both  now  seemed  to  think  the  conference 
concluded. 

1  Be  here  to-morrow  evening  at  ten ;  and  in  the  meantime 
gather  up  all  that  will  throw  suspicion  on  your  wife.  By- 
the-bye,  the  will  requires  two  witnesses.  Can  you  find  an- 
2* 


34  THE    ATTORNEY. 

other  equally  trusty  with  yourself  ?  I  have  a  clerk  who  will 
excel  one  of  these  days,  but  he  is  too  young  yet,  and  would 
be  nervous.' 

Wilkins  pondered  a  moment ;  at  length  he  said  :  *  I  know 
the  very  man  ;  sharp,  shrewd,  without  conscience,  and  with 
nerves  like  iron.  But  he  is  poor,  and  has  no  widow  in  his 
eye.  You  must  pay  him  in  ready  money.7 

1  Leave  that  to  me.  And  now  I  must  spend  the  rest  of 
the  night  in  helping  my  old  friend  to  dispose  of  his  property. 
Ha!  ha!  ha!' 

*  Ha  !  ha  !  you  are  a  deep  one ! '  said  Wilkins,  taking  up 
his  hat.  To-morrow  night  at  ten.  Good-night ! ' 

The  attorney  listened  to  his  steps  as  they  echoed  along 
the  passage  until  they  died  away ;  then  carefully  locking  the 
door,  he  lighted  another  candle,  and  addressed  himself  to 
his  task. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  35 


CHAPTER    II. 

V 

IT  was  a  cold  night,  and  as  Wilkins  emerged  from  the 
building  into  the  street,  he  drew  a  long  breath  of  pure  air, 
as  if  it  were  refreshing  once  more  to  be  free  from  the  murky, 
stagnant  atmosphere  of  that  old  house,  and  under  the  blue 
vault  of  the  sky.  Thoughts  and  plans  came  crowding  thickly 
upon  him  as  he  strode  on,  and  hopes  and  fears ;  and  with 
them  was  mingled  a  lurking  dread  of  the  poor  girl  against 
whom  he  was  plotting ;  a  half-acknowledged  fear  of  what 
she  might  do  if  driven  to  extremity ;  and  above  all,  the 
whispering  of  his  own"  conscience,  which  made  a  coward  of 
him  as  he  slunk  through  the  dark  streets.  Skulking  along 
like  a  felon,  he  made  for  one  of  the  great  thoroughfares,  for 
he  felt  as  if  the  crowd  there  would  keep  off  his  own  thoughts. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  evening,  and  the  streets  were 
thronged  with  that  tide  of  population  which,  during  the  first 
hours  after  twilight,  sets  from  the  lower  to  the  upper  part  of 
the  town.  None  loitered  except  the  sick,  the  weary  and  the 
homeless.  Hundreds  of  those  poor  girls  who  spend  the 
hours  of  daylight  in  the  lower  parts  of  the  city  in  earning  a 
pittance  by  tedious  toil,  were  speeding  like  so  many  uncaged 
birds  to  the  homes  where  there  were  glad  faces  to  welcome 
them,  and  kind  hands  to  smooth  a  pillow  beneath  their 
aching  heads ;  or  perhaps  not  a  few  craved  but  a  place  to 
cast  down  their  work-worn  frames  to  rest  before  another  day 
of  toil.  Many  a  pale  face  and  blighted  form  was  among 
that  crowd,  and  many  a  tottering  limb  and  trembling  hand ; 
eyes  that  should  have  been  bright  were  dimmed  with  prema- 


38  THE    ATTORNEY. 

ture  suffering,  and  features  that  should  have  worn  the  hue 
of  health  and  been  radiant  with  the  gladness  of  youth  were 
now  wan  and  sunken,  or  illumined  only  by  the  sickly  smile 
which  flickers  over  the  face  of  the  invalid.  Day  after  day 
they  toiled  on,  but  they  felt  that  there  was  nothing  in  store 
for  them  ;  their  childhood  had  had  no  joy,  their  youth  no 
promise.  Even  hope  was  gone ;  and  weary  and  heart-sick, 
they  looked  forward  to  but  one  place  —  the  grave,  where  there 
was  a  calm  and  holy  peace ;  where  their  toils  would  be  ended 
for  ever. 

Mechanics  and  boys,  with  their  tin  kettles,  in  squads  of 
five  or  six,  were  hurrying  on,  some  in  silence,  others  with 
loud  merriment,  but  all  bound  to  that  single  sacred  spot  — 
home. 

Wilkins  mingled  with  the  throng,  and  made  his  way 
among  them,  sometimes  pausing  to  listen  to  the  remarks  of 
the  passers-by,  and  sometimes  brooding  over  his  own  plans. 

The  street  through  which  he  was  passing  was  that  great 
artery  of  the  city  called  the  Bowery ;  and  just  above  where 
it  empties  itself  into  the  triangular  opening  known  as  Chat 
ham  Square,  he  turned  off  into  a  street  on  the  eastern  side 
of  it. 

The  dwellings  in  this  neighborhood  were  of  the  meaner 
kind,  built  chiefly  of  wood,  with  patched  and  broken  win 
dows,  here  and  there  repaired  with  paper,  or  by  the  intro 
duction  of  an  old  hat  or  a  pair  of  tattered  inexpressibles. 
Throughout  the  whole  there  was  an  odd  mixture  of  comfort 
and  penury,  and  occasionally  a  faint  effort  at  gentility  in  defi 
ance  of  poverty  :  but  in  most  cases,  in  the  bitter  struggle 
between  human  vanity  and  human  want,  stern  necessity  had 
got  the  upper  hand. 

A  front  room  on  a  level  with  the  street,  in  a  mean  house, 
in  the  part  of  the  city  just  described,  was  Wilkins's  home. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  37 

It  was  small  and  scantily  furnished.  A  rag  carpet,  a  small 
looking-glass,  a  deal  table,  a  bed,  and  a  few  rush-bottom 
chairs  were  all  that  it  contained  ;  but  with  all  its  poverty  it 
had  an  air  of  cheerfulness.  A  bright  fire  burnt  merrily  on 
the  cleanly-swept  hearth,  and  window-shades  of  painted  paper, 
such  as  is  used  for  walls,  served  to  shut  out  the  cold  and  to 
impart  an  air  of  greater  comfort.  Every  thing  bespoke  ex 
treme  poverty,  combined  with  that  rarest  of  all  its  accom 
paniments  —  cleanliness. 

The  only  tenant  of  this  room  was  a  girl  of  scarcely  more 
than  nineteen,  who  sat  at  the  table  repairing  some  article 
of  man's  apparel.  There  was  an  expression  of  hopeful  anx 
iety  in  her  large  dark  eye,  and  a  lighting-up  of  features  wUch 
had  once  been  beautiful,  but  were  now  rather  thin  and  sharp 
in  outline,  and  a  nervous,  restless  motion  of  the  body,  and  a 
hasty  glance  at  the  door  as  each  successive  step  approached ; 
and  a  corresponding  expression  of  disappointment  as  it  re 
ceded. 

How  sure,  yet  how  indefinable  is  the  certainty  with  which 
we  recognize  a  familiar  footstep  !  For  half  an  hour  at  least, 
the  girl  had  feverishly  watched  and  listened.  At  last  came 
a  quick,  firm  step.  She  started  to  -her  feet,  and  had  scarcely 
time  to  exclaim,  *  That 's  him ! '  when  the  door  opened,  and 
Wilkins  strode  in. 

'  I  knew  it  was  you  ! '  exclaimed  the  girl  joyously,  running 
up  to  him,  and  offering  to  take  his  hat. 

'Well,  what  if  you  did  ? '  replied  he,  jerking  the  hat  from 
her  hand,  and  throwing  it  on  a  chair.  '  Let  my  coat  alone, 
will  you  ?  I  am  able  to  take  it  off  myself.  Do  you  think 
that  I  am  as  helpless  as  you,  who  can  do  nothing  without 
being  waited  on  ?  Get  me  some  supper,  and  do  n't  trouble 
me  ;  I  'm  not  in  the  humor.' 

*  I  did  not  mean  to  offend  you,  George,'  said  she,  shrink- 


38  THE    ATTORNEY. 

ing  from  the  angry  yet  irresolute  eye  that  met  hers  ;  4  indeed 
I  did  not.  Are  you  ill,  George  2 ' 

'  Get  me  some  supper.  Am  I  to  stand  starving  here, 
while  you,  who  take  care  never  to  feel  hungry  yourself,  pour 
your  clatter  in  my  ears  ? ' 

The  poor  girl  had  not  eaten  since  morning,  lest  there 
should  not  be  sufficient  left  in  the  scanty  larder  to  furnish  a 
meal  for  her  husband,  for  such  was  the  relationship  between 
them  ;  but  she  said  not  a  word,  but  shrank  back,  and  set 
about  preparing  the  meal. 

'  Who 's  been  here  since  morning  ? '  demanded  Wilkins, 
seating  himself  in  front  of  the  fire,  and  thrusting  his  feet  in 
a  proximity  to  the  flame  which  showed  more  desire  of  heat 
than  consideration  for  shoe-leather.  *  I  suppose  that  Jack 
Phillips  ;  he's  here  for  ever.'- 

'  No,  only  your  friend  Higgs ;  he  stopped  but  for  a  mo 
ment,  to  inquire  when  I  expected  you,  and  did  not  even 
come  in,'  replied  the  girl,  busying  herself  in  arranging  the 
table. 

With  a  sulky  growl,  the  import  of  which  was  lost  in  a 
contest  between  his  voice  and  teeth,  Wilkins  sank  back  in 
his  chair,  and  gazed  in  the  fire,  occasionally  casting  stealthy 
and  irresolute  looks  at  his  wife.  Several  times  he  opened 
his  lips  as  if  to  speak  ;  but  the  words  shrank  back,  and  he 
contented  himself  with  poking  the  fire,  and  giving  vent  to  a 
few  indistinct  mutterings. 

'  Curse  it ! '  he  exclaimed  at  last,  with  a  strong  effort,  'have 
you  nothing  to  tell  me  1  When  did  Higgs  call  here  ? ' 

'About  an  hour  ago.' 

4  Well,  why  could  n't  you  say  that  at  first  ?  If  it  had  been 
that  fellow,  Jack  Phillips,  I  should  have  heard  it  soon  enough. 
He 's  here  too  much.' 

'  Well,  George,'  said  she,  mildly,  *  if  you  wish  it,  we  can 


THE    ATTORNEY.  39 

refuse  to  let  him  in.     I  thought  he  was  a  friend  of  yours, 
and  for  that  reason  I ' 

*  Fell  in  love  with  him,'  interrupted  Wilkins,  with  a  sneer. 
*  You  see,  I  know  all  about  it.' 

Lucy  turned  short  round,  without  saying  a  word,  and  fixed 
her  dark  eyes  upon  him  with  a  look  of  surprise  and  incre 
dulity  that  completely  over-mastered  the  dogged  gaze  which 
it  encountered. 

1  No,  George,'  said  she,  with  a  faint  laugh,  '  not  that ;  but 
it 's  ill  jesting  on  such  subjects :  do  n't  say  it  again.' 

'  But  I  will  say  it,  and  I  do!  *  Jesting  ! '  By  G  — !  I 
mean  what  I  say —  every  word  of  it ! 

'  No,  no,  George,'  exclaimed  she,  with  an  hysterical  laugh, 
and  catching  hold  of  his  arm :  '  you  do  not  —  you  cannot. 
I  know  it  was  only  a  joke ;  but  you  looked  so  very  strange ! 
It  was  only  a  joke  —  was  n't  it  ? ' 

'  Was  it  ? '  muttered  he,  grinding  his  teeth,  though  with 
out  raising  his  eyes  to  hers  ;  '  we  '11  see  that !  Give  me  my 
supper,  for  I  must  be  out.  Do  n't  keep  me  waiting.' 

The  girl  made  no  reply,  but  releasing  his  arm,  and  turn 
ing  her  back  toward  him,  hastily  dashed  her  hand  across 
her  eyes,  and  went  on  with  her  preparations  in  silence.  This 
lasted  about  five  minutes,  Wilkins  gazing  now  at  the  floor, 
and  now  stealing  a  look  at  his  wife. 

*  The  supper  is  ready,'  she  said,  at  length.     Wilkins  rose, 
and  dragging  the  chair  to  the  table,  seated  himself,  and 
began  to  eat  voraciously,  without  noticing  his  wife,  who  sat 
at  the  opposite  side,  eyeing  him  with  suspicion  and  fear. 
Once  or  twice  their  eyes  met,  and  Wilkins's  dropped  beneath 
hers. 

4  What  are  you  staring  at  ? '  demanded  he,  angrily ;  '  can't 
a  man  eat  without  having  every  mouthful  counted  ? ' 


40  THE    ATTORNEY. 

The  girl  rose,  and  taking  a  stool  from  the  corner,  drew  it 
near  the  fire,  and  seated  herself  with  her  back  to  him. 

*  Did  Higgs  say  what  he  wanted  ? '  asked  Wilkins. 

'  No ;  he  only  asked  if  you  were  in ;  and  when  I  told  him 
you  were  not,  he  went  off.' 

*  I  suppose  he  wanted  money.     I  must  see  him.     Do  you 
know  where  he  went  ? ' 

'  He  said  he  would  wait  at  Rawley's,  and  that  you  would 
know  where  that  was.' 

Without  farther  words,  Wilkins  left  the  table,  and  put  on 
his  shaggy  overcoat :  jerking  his  hat  on  his  head,  and  taking 
from  the  corner  a  stick,  something  between  a  cane  and  a 
bludgeon,  he  sallied  out. 

1  Will  you  return  soon,  George  ? ' 

Wilkins  slammed  the  door  behind  him,  without  reply,  and 
walked  oft*. 

His  wife  stood  until  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  died  away, 
her  lip  quivering,  the  large  tears  in  her  eyes,  her  hand 
pressed  painfully  against  her  breast,  and  her  breath  coming 
short  and  with  difficulty.  The  struggle  was  but  for  a  mo 
ment.  She  threw  herself  in  a  chair,  bent  her  head  down 
upon  the  table,  and  wept  long  and  bitterly. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  41 


CHAPTER    III. 

ON  leaving  the  house,  Wilkins  directed  his  steps  down 
the  Bowery  to  Chatham-street,  crossing  which,  he  struck 
through  that  portion  of  the  town  lying  between  Chatham 
and  Centre-streets,  and  notorious  as  the  abode  of  crime  and 
infamy.  Every  thing  about  him  bore  the  mark  of  corrup 
tion  and  decay.  Houses  with  unglazed  sashes,  unhinged 
doors,  roofless  and  crumbling  away  beneath  the  hand  of 
time,  were  leaning  against  each  other  to  support  themselves 
amid  the  universal  ruin.  Unlike  the  rest  of  the  city,  there 
was  no  life,  no  bustle ;  all  was  stagnant :  its  inhabitants  seemed 
buried  in  a  living  grave.  Crowds  of  miserable  objects,  the 
wrecks  of  human  beings,  were  loitering  about  the  dismal 
holes  which  they  called  their  homes ;  some,  shivering  on  the 
side-walks,  were  nestling  together  to  steal  warmth  from  each 
other's  carcasses ;  some,  bloated  and  half  stupefied  with  hard 
drinking,  went  muttering  along,  or  stopped  to  brawl  with 
others  like  themselves.  Young  females,  too,  with  hollow 
cheeks  and  hungry  eyes,  were  loitering  among  the  herd. 
Many  of  them  had  been  born  to  nothing  better ;  but  there 
were  those  among  them  who  once  had  friends  who  had  loved 
them,  and  had  looked  forward  to  a  future  without  a  shadow : 
but  they  had  come  to  this ;  they  had  broken  the  hearts  of 
those  who  would  have  cherished  them,  and  had  drunk  of 
crime  and  woe  to  the  dregs. 

Hardened  as  Wilkins  was,  he  shuddered  and  grasped  his 
bludgeon  more  tightly  as  he  hurried  through  this  gloomy 
spot.  Stifled  screams  and  groans,  and  sounds  of  anger  and 


42  THE    ATTORNEY. 

blasphemy  burst  upon  his  ears,  mingled  with  shouts  of 
mirth;  and  he  observed  figures  shrinking  in  the  obscure 
corners  of  the  buildings  as  he  passed,  and  watching  him  with 
the  cautious  yet  savage  eye  of  mingled  suspicion  and  fear ; 
for  he  was  in  the  very  heart  of  the  region  where  thieves  and 
cut-throats  were  skulking  to  avoid  the  vigilance  of  the  police, 
and  had  common  lot  with  the  penniless  and  homeless  who 
came  there  only  to  die.  With  a  feeling  of  relief  he  emerged 
from  this  doomed  spot,  and  came  to  a  quiet  street.  It  was 
growing  late  in  the  night,  and  it  was  nearly  deserted,  and  so 
silent  that  his  footsteps  echoed  on  the  pavement  as  he  walked 
along.  As  he  turned  a  corner,  a  solitary  female,  squalid  and 
in  rags,  endeavored  to  stop  him,  and  spoke  a  few  words,  half 
in  jest,  half  in  supplication.  Utter  destitution  had  driven 
her  forth  to  seek  in  sin  the  means  of  satisfying  her  craving 
.  hunger.  Wilkins  shook  her  off  with  a  curse,  and  walked 
steadily  on.  The  girl  uttered  a  faint  laugh,  and  looked  after 
him  until  he  turned  a  corner.  *  He  does  not  know  what 
hunger  is,'  muttered  she.  Drawing  her  scanty  clothing  more 
closely  about  her,  and  crouching  on  the  stone  step  of  a 
large  house,  she  leaned  her  head  against  the  door-post,  and 
wept. 

Traversing  several  narrow  streets,  and  turning  at  one  time 
to  the  right  and  at  another  to  the  left,  Wilkins  at  last 
came  to  a  mean-looking  house,  having  a  small  sign  over  the 
door,  indicating  that  it  was  a  tavern,  and  with  a  number  of 
illuminated  placards  in  the  windows,  intimating  that  lodgings 
were'  to  be  had,  and  that  various  liquors  might  be  purchased 
at  the  moderate  sum  of  three  cents  a  glass.  In  addition  to 
these,  a  number  of  more  modest  notices  were  placed  in  the 
same  window,  for  the  benefit  of  the  smoking  community,  as 
well  as  of  the  drinking. 

Wilkins  pushed  roughly  past  two  or  three  persons,  and 


THE    ATTORNEY.  43 

entered  a  dingy  room,  strongly  impregnated  with  the  fumes 
of  tobacco  and  spirits,  and  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  smoke. 
It  was  filled  with  persons  who  looked  as  if  they  would  not 
hesitate  to  ease  a  pocket,  or,  if  it  were  necessary,  to  extend 
their  civility  so  far  as  cutting  a  throat.  Some  were  savage, 
silent  and  sullen  ;  others,  under  the  influence  of  what  they 
had  drunk,  were  humorous  and  loquacious :  some,  steeped 
in  intoxication,  were  lying  at  full  length  upon  wooden 
benches  ;  others  were  leaning  back  in  their  chairs  against  the 
wall,  saying  nothing,  but  blowing  out  clouds  of  tobacco 
smoke.  The  only  one  of  the  whole  group  who  aspired  to 
any  thing  like  sobriety  was  a  small  man  in  a  shabby  suit  of 
black,  who  sat  in  a  corner,  endeavoring  to  expound  some 
knotty  point  of  politics  to  a  gentleman  who  was  blinking  at 
him  from  an  opposite  corner  with  an  air  of  deep  conviction, 
arising  either  from  his  being  thoroughly  impressed  by  the 
force  of  the  argument,  or  profoundly  involved  in  liquor. 

In  the  midst  of  this  disorderly  throng  sat  Mr.  Rawley, 
keeping  guard  over  a  row  of  shelves  occupied  by  a  small 
congregation  of  decanters,  each  one  being  decorated  with  a 
small  medal,  which  silently  hinted  to  the  by-standers  the 
kind  of  liquor  to  be  found  in  the  bowels  of  the  vessel.  Mr. 
Rawley  looked  gravely  around  on  his  set  of  *  reg'lars,'  as  he 
termed  his  steady  customers,  and  smiled  approvingly  at  each 
successive  drain  upon  the  vitals  of  his  bottles.  He  showed 
in  his  own  person  that  he  approved  of  enjoying  the  blessings 
of  life,  for  he  was  a  stout  man,  with  a  face  wide  at  the  bot 
tom,  and  tapering  up  like  an  extinguisher,  and  in  the  midst  of 
it  was  a  solemn,  bulbous  nose,  somewhat  red  at  the  end,  possi 
bly  owing  to  Mr.  Rawley's  being  afflicted  with  a  propensity  of 
smelling  at  the  stoppers  of  his  own  decanters.  At  his  right 
hand  stood  a  large  white  bull-dog,  who  seemed  to  have  been 


44  THE    ATTORNEY. 

squeezed  into  a  skin  too  small  for  his  body,  by  reason  of 
which  operation  his  eyes  were  forced  out  like  those  of  a  lob 
ster.  He  had  the  square  head  and  chest  of  a  dog  of  the 
first  magnitude  ;  but  probably  to  accommodate  the  rest  of 
his  body  to  the  scanty  dimensions  of  his  skin,  he  suddenly 
tapered  off  from  thence  to  the  other  extremity,  which  termi 
nated  in  a  tail  not  much  thicker  than  a  stout  wire.  He  was, 
as  Mr.  Rawley  observed,  a  '  reg'lar  thorough-bred  bull,'  and 
acted  as  under  bar-keeper  to  his  master ;  and  when  Wilkius 
entered,  was  standing  with  his  eyes  fixed  in  the  corner  occu 
pied  by  the  argumentative  gentleman  before  mentioned,  as 
if  he  felt  that  he  could  take  a  very  effective  part  in  the 
discussion,  but  had  some  doubt  as  to  the  propriety  of  the 
step. 

As  soon  as  Wilkins  entered,  the  dog  walked  up  to  him, 
and  very  deliberately  applying  his  nose  to  his  knee,  smelt 
from  thence  downward  to  the  instep,  around  the  ankle,  and 
up  the  calf  to  the  place  of  beginning. 

'  Come  away,  *  Bitters  ' ! '  exclaimed  Rawley.  *  Let  the 
gentleman  alone  —  will  you  ? ' 

'  Bitters '  looked  up  at  Wilkins,  to  satisfy  himself  that  there 
was  no  mistake  as  to  the  fact  of  his  belonging  to  that  class 
of  society,  and  then  walked  stiffly  back,  like  an  old  gentle 
man  in  tight  small-clothes  —  but  made  no  remark. 

Wilkins  noticed  neither  the  dog  nor  his  master,  but  looked 
around  the  room. 

'  I  do  n't  see  Higgs.  Is  he  there  ? '  asked  he,  nodding  his 
head  toward  an  inner  chamber. 

*  No  ;  he  's  up  stairs,'  said  Mr.  Rawley. 

'Alone  ? ' 

1 1  believe  so.  He  wanted  paper,  and  took  that,  and  a 
candle,  and  went  off.' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  45 

*  Does  he  stop  here  to-night  ? ' 

*  If  he  forks  first ;  but,'  continued  he,  tapping  his  pocket, 
1 1  think  his  disease  here  is  of  an  aggravated  natur'.' 

Wilkins  left  the  room,  and  ascending  a  narrow  staircase, 
which  creaked  under  his  weight,  came  to  a  dark  passage.  A 
light  shining  from  beneath  a  door  at  the  farther  end  of  it 
guided  him  to  the  room  that  he  sought,  which  he  entered 
without  ceremony.  Seated  at  a  table,  engaged  in  writing, 
was  a  man  of  about  forty,  dressed  in  a  shabby  suit,  buttoned 
closely  up  to  the  throat,  to  conceal  either  the  want  of  a  shirt,  or 
the  want  of  cleanliness  in  that  article  of  apparel ;  and  a  high 
stock  encasing  his  neck,  probably  for  the  same  purpose.  He 
was  rather  below  the  middle  height,  with  a  full,,  broad  fore 
head,  sharp  gray  eyes,  and  features  rather  delicate  than 
otherwise,  with  the  exception  of  the  jaw,  which  was  closed 
and  compressed  with  a  force  as  if  the  bone  of  it  were  made 
of  iron. 

The  face  altogether  was  common-place ;  but  the  jaw 
bespoke  nerve,  resolution  and  energy,  all  concealed  under  a 
careless  exterior,  and  an  affectation  of  extreme  levity.  On 
the  table  was  a  hat,  in  which  was  a  dirty  cotton  handker 
chief,  a  newspaper,  two  cigars,  and  part  of  a  hard  apple, 
with  which  last  article  the  person  just  described  occasionally 
regaled  himself,  to  fill  up  those  intervals  of  time  when  his 
writing  had  got  the  start  of  his  ideas. 

As  Wilkins  entered,  he  looked  up  ;  then  pushing  back  his 
chair  and  dropping  his  pen,  with  some  show  of  alacrity,  came 
forward  and  extended  his  hand. 

'  How  are  you,  my  old  'un'  ? ' 

'Well,'  replied  WTilkins,  laconically.  'What  brings  you 
here  ?  what  are  you  writing? ' 

'A  billy-dux,'  said  Higgs,  gravely,  '  to  one  as  virtuous  as 
fair.  But  it 's  a  secret  which  I  can  't  reveal.' 


46  THE    ATTORNEY. 

4 1  do  n't  want  you  to ;  I  came  to  see  you  on  a  matter  of 
business,  one  of  importance  to  —  to  many  persons,  and  one 
in  which  you  must  take  a  part.' 

'Ah  !  what  is  it  ? ' 

*  Who  's  in  the  next  room  ? ' 

' 1  do  n't  know.     It 's  empty,  I  believe.' 

*  Go  and  see ;  and  look  in  all  the  rooms,  and  be  quiet  as 
you  do  so.' 

Higgs,  taking  the  light,  went  out,  and  Wilkins  took  the 
opportunity  to  open  a  long  closet,  to  see  that  no  listeners 
were  there,  and  then  seated  himself  at  the  table. 

'All  empty,  except  the  farthest  one.  Tipps  is  there,  dead 
drunk,'  said  Higgs,  reentering  the  room,  and  closing  and 
locking  the  door  after  him.  He  then  drew  a  chair  directly 
in  front  of  Wilkins,  and  placing  a  hand  on  each  knee,  looked 
in  his  face. 

'  Can  you  keep  a  secret  ? '  asked  Wilkins,  after  a  long  scru 
tiny,  and  looking  full  into  two  eyes  that  never  blenched. 

'  Can't  you  tell  ?     You  ought  to  be  able  to.' 

'  Will  you  swear  ? ' 

'  What 's  the  use  ?  It  do  n't  bind  any  stronger  than  a 
promise.  Out  with  it.  I  '11  keep  a  close  mouth.' 

'  Well,  then,'  continued  Wilkins,  watching  him  sharply, 
to  see  the  effect  produced  by  his  communication,  and  at  the 
same  time  drawing  his  chair  closer,  and  speaking  in  a  whis 
per,  '  suppose  you  knew  of  a  murder,  and  there  was  a  reward 
of  a  thousand  dollars  offered,  and  you  knew  the  man  who 
did  it,  and  could  give  him  up,  and  could  get  the  money,  all 
without  risk  to  yourself;  would  you  do  it  ? ' 

'  No.  I  '11  have  no  man's  blood  on  my  head,'  replied  the 
other ;  and  pushing  back  his  chair,  he  took  up  the  light,  and 
held  it  full  in  Wilkins's  face.  '  Is  that  so  ? ' 

1  No,'  returned  Wilkins,  apparently  relieved. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  47 

Well,  what  have  you  got  to  tell  ? ' 

'  Suppose,'  continued  the  other,  '  the  crime  was  a  forgery, 
and  the  reward  the  same  ;  what  would  you  do  ? ' 

'  That 's  only  imprisonment.     I  'd  give  him  up.' 

'  But  what  if  you  were  paid  not  to  do  so  ? '  said  Wilkins, 
eagerly. 

'  Then  I  would  n't,'  said  Higgs,  quietly. 

'What  if  you  were  paid  to  have  a  hand  in  it? — would 
you  do  it  ? ' 

'  What  is  the  pay  ? '  demanded  the  other,  instantly  catch 
ing  his  meaning. 

'A  thousand  dollars.' 

'  I  '11  do  it.' 

'  And  will  not  let  it  out  ? ' 

'No.' 

'  Nor  turn  State's  evidence  ? ' 

'No.' 

'But  suppose  the  person  to  be  wronged  is  a  girl,  young, 
handsome,  and  unprotected  ? ' 

'  Mr.  Wilkins,'  said  Higgs,  assuming  an  air  of  decision, 
and  thrusting  one  hand  in  his  breeches  pocket,  while  he  ex 
tended  the  other  toward  him,  '  I  'd  cheat  her  all  the  same. 
For  a  thousand  dollars  I  'd  cheat  my  own  mother ! ' 

'  Enough  !  that 's  settled.  You  are  engaged.  And  now 
for  another.  Suppose  you  had  a  friend  who  is  in  trouble, 
and  wants  your  assistance  ? ' 


'And  relies  on  you,  and  must  go  to  hell  without  you  ? ' 
Wilkins  paused,  and  scrutinized  the  hard,  stony  face  that 
almost  touched  his  own.  'And  suppose  that  friend,'  con 
tinued  he,  slowly,  and  with  apparent  effort,  '  had  a  wife  who 
stood  in  his  way,  who  prevented  him  from  rising  in  the 
world,  and  who  took  advantage  of  his  absence  from  home 


48  THE    ATTORNEY. 

to  welcome  another ;  and  suppose,  if  that  could  be  proved, 
he  could  get  a  divorce,  and  marry  a  fortune,  and  make  you 
a  present  of  a  thousand  or  two  ?  —  do  you  think  you  could 
prove  that  first  wife's  crime  ? ' 

*  Lucy  ? '  said  Higgs,  inquiringly. 

Wilkins  nodded. 

'  I  supposed  so.  It 's  been  a  long  time  coming  to  a  head. 
I  expected  it  months  ago.' 

'  You  will  prove  what  I  told  you  ? 

1  It  ain't  true,  though  ? '  asked  Higgs,  peering  anxiously 
in  the  face  of  his  friend. 

'No.     But  what  of  that?' 

'  Nothing  —  only  I  wanted  to  know.' 

'  Then  you  will  prove  it  ? '  reiterated  Wilkins. 

'  Of  course  I  will.  But,  George,'  said  Higgs,  slowly,  '  I 
always  liked  Lucy.  There  's  not  her  like  on  earth.' 

'Hell  and  furies  ! '  exclaimed  Wilkins,  starting  to  his  feet, 
and  clenching  his  fists.  '  If  I  do  not  get  the  divorce,  if  I 
cannot  shake  her  off  by  the  law,  I  will  by  —  something  else ! ' 
As  he  spoke,  he  dashed  his  heavy  hand  against  the  table,  as 
if  it  clutched  a  knife.  '  Will  you  help  me  ? ' 

'  I  will.  Better  that  than  murder ;  but  you  '11  be  the  loser. 
Mark  my  words.' 

'  I  '11  risk  it,'  said  Wilkins.  'And  now  my  business  is  ended ; 
so  good-night,  and  do  not  fail  to  be  at  my  house  to-morrow 
morning,  at  sunrise,  and  I  '11  tell  you  more.' 

'  I  will,'  was  the  reply,  and  Wilkins  slammed  the  door 
after  him. 

When  Mr.  Higgs  heard  him  descending  the  stairs,  he  took 
the  apple  from  the  hat,  and  carefully  wiped  it  with  the 
sleeve  of  his  coat,  and  after  turning  it  round  several  times, 
with  his  eye  fixed  on  it  as  if  searching  for  the  most  effectual 
spot  to  begin,  he  took  a  large  bite,  and  resumed  his  pen 


THE    ATTORNEY.  49 

and  his  labors.  Wilkins  left  the  room,  and  strode  rapidly 
down  stairs  into  the  bar-room,  and  was  quitting  the  house, 
when  he  found  his  path  obstructed  by  Bitters,  who,  being  in 
doubt  whether  he  had  settled  his  reckoning,  with  an  amiable 
smile  which  displayed  a  row  of  remarkably  strong  teeth, 
evinced  an  inclination  to  remonstrate  against  his  leaving  the 
premises. 

'  Call  off  your  dog,  Rawley,'  said  Wilkins,  angrily,  *  or  I  '11 
dash  his  brains  out.'  As  he  spoke,  he  raised  his  heavy  blud 
geon.  The  eyes  of  the  dog  glowed  like  living  coals,  as  the 
club  rose  in  the  air ;  but  farther  hostilities  were  arrested  by 
the  voice  of  the  bar-keeper,  who  called  the  animal  away. 
After  giving  Wilkins  a  look  such  as  champions  in  the  days 
of  yore  were  in  the  habit  of  bestowing  on  each  other  when 
they  pleasantly  intimated  the  hope  that  they  might  meet  at 
some  future  day,  where  there  would  be  none  to  interrupt 
their  pastime,  Bitters  walked  stiffly  off,  as  if  laboring  under 
a  severe  attack  of  rheumatism. 

Wilkins  paused  no  longer  than  to  allow  the  dog  to  get 
out  of  his  path,  and  then  hurried  off  toward  his  own  home. 


60  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

TEARS  to  many  bring  relief ;  but  to  the  broken  heart  they 
only  widen  the  wound  :  and  when  Lucy,  after  the  departure 
of  her  husband,  gave  full  vent  to  the  bitter  gush  of  grief, 
her  tears  did  not  lessen  it.  She  thought  of  times  past  never 
to  return ;  of  the  happy  hours  of  her  childhood,  and  of  those 
who  had  loved  her  then ;  of  the  friends  who  had  clustered 
about  her  ;  of  the  bright  fireside  of  her  early  home,  and  of 
the  light-hearted  group  that  assembled  around  it  in  the  cold 
winter  evenings.  Yet  she  had  quitted  them  all.  She  looked 
round  the  dimly-lighted  room,  with  its  scanty  furniture  and 
the  meagre  repast,  which  remained  as  Wilkins  had  left  it. 
She  had  quitted  all  that  her  young  heart  had  loved  to  fol 
low  him,  to  live  thus  —  and  to  have  that  heart  trampled 
on.  '  Well,  no  matter  ! '  thought  she ;  '  perhaps  he  was  ill ; 
and  when  he  returns,  a  few  kind  words  will  make  up  for 
all.'  Even  this  thought  brought  a  ray  of  comfort  with  it ; 
and  dashing  the  tears  from  her  eyes,  she  rose  to  remove  the 
things  from  the  table.  At  that  moment  a  step  which  she 
at  once  recognized  as  her  husband's  sounded  in  the  passage, 
and  he  entered  the  room. 

His  greeting  was  a  rough  one.  Dashing  his  hat  to  the 
floor,  and  muttering  something  between  his  teeth,  he 
dragged  a  chair  to  the  centre  of  the  room,  stamped  it  heavily 
on  the  floor,  and  sat  down  opposite  his  wife. 

'  Has  any  one  been  here  ?  Holloa  !  what  are  you  snivel 
ling  about  ? '  said  he,  taking  her  by  the  arm,  and  holding  the 
candle  full  in  her  face. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  51 

'  I  am  not  well,  George,  indeed  I  am  not,'  said  she,  bend 
ing  down  and  resting  her  forehead  on  his  shoulder  to  con 
ceal  the  tears  that  would  gush  out  in  spite  of  her. 

'  Thunder ! '  exclaimed  he,  starting  to  his  feet  with  a  vio 
lence  that  nearly  threw  her  down  ;  '  am  I  never  to  come 
home  without  being  greeted  in  this  way  ?  Will  you  have 
done  with  this,  I  say  ? ' 

'  There,  there,  George,'  said  she,  in  a  choked  voice ;  *  it 's 
all  over  now.  I  '11  not  do  so  again.'  There  was  a  slight 
quivering  of  the  lip,  to  conceal  which  she  busied  herself  at 
the  table  :  and  Wilkins  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair,  and 
watched  her  with  moody  looks.  She  removed  the  things 
and  placed  them  in  a  cupboard  in  a  corner  of  the  room  : 
then,  throwing  a  knot  of  wood  on  the  fire,  she  drew  a  chair 
beside  her  husband,  and  seating  herself  in  it,  took  his  hand. 

I  verily  believe  that  the  Devil  sometimes  takes  up  his 
abode  in  the  heart  of  man  ;  and  that  night  he  had  made  his 
quarters  in  that  of  Wilkins,  or  else  the  gentle,  half  timid, 
half  confiding  glance  with  which  his  wife  looked  up  in  his 
face,  and  the  affectionate  manner  in  which  she  wound  her 
soft  fingers  around  his  hard,  bony  hand,  would  have  softened 
his  mood  ;  but  it  did  not.  Griping  the  hand  that  rested  in 
his  until  the  girl  cried  out  from  pain,  he  flung  it  from  him. 

1  Damnation  !  Can't  a  man  sit  a  moment  in  peace,  with 
out  being  whimpered  or  worried  to  death  !  I  wish  to  God 
you  were  where  I  got  you  from  ! ' 

The  girl  made  no  reply,  but  drew  off  to  a  far  corner  of 
the  room  and  seated  herself ;  but  the  evil  spirit  of  Wilkins 
was  now  fully  roused,  and  he  followed  her  up. 

4 1  repeat  it,'  said  he,  shaking  his  clenched  fist  over  her 
head ;  '  I  wish  you  were  where  I  got  you  from  ! ' 

His  wife  cowered  down  in  her  seat,  and  kept  her  eyes 
nxed  on  the  floor,  without  making  any  reply. 


52  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'Are  you  dumb  ? '  shouted  the  miscreant,  shaking  her  vio 
lently,  '  or  are  you  deaf  ?  Do  you  hear  what  I  say  ? ' 

'  Yes,  George,'  was  the  scarcely  articulate  reply. 

'  Have  n't  you  got  an  answer,  then  ? '  demanded  he  in  a 
hoarse  voice. 

Lucy  shook  her  head,  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  ; 
but  Wilkins  caught  her  by  both  wrists,  and  by  main  strength 
held  her  up  in  front  of  him  face  to  face. 

'  What  answer  have  you  to  make  ? '  demanded  he  fiercely. 
'Answer  me,  I  say.' 

'  Indeed,  George,  I  have  none,  replied  his  wife,  trembling 
so  that  she  shook  in  his  grasp  ;  for  in  all  his  paroxysms  of 
anger  he  had  never  before  acted  like  this  ;  '  Indeed,  I  do  n't 
know  what  answer  to  make.  I  am  sorry  you  want  to  be  rid 
of  me :  my  mother  is  in  her  grave  ;  and  I  have  now  only 
you.  I  have  few  friends,  and  none  to  love  me  but  you  ;  the 
others  are  far  off.' 

*  Does  Jack  Phillips  live  so  very  far  off  ? '  said  Wilkins, 
with  a  sneer. 

'  What  do  you  mean  ? '  demanded  his  wife,  extricating  he.1 
wrists  from  his  gripe,  and  standing  erect,  and  confronting 
him  ;  '  what  do  you  mean  ? ' 

*  Oh  !  you  do  n't  know,  do  n't  you  ? ' 

.  '  No,  I  do  not  know ;  but  I  suspect  much  —  all ! '  said  she, 
with  an  energy  which  surprised  her  husband,  though  it  dicl 
not  shake  his  purpose  ;  '  and  this  I  will  say,  that  whoever 
attacks  my  name,  be  he  foe  or  friend,  or  even  husband,  or 
dares  to  cast  by  word  or  sign  a  shade  upon  me,  is  a  foul 
slanderer !  A  woman's  fame  is  a  thing  that  will  not  bear 
tampering  with  ;  and  he  is  a  villain  who  would  throw  the 
weight  of  a  feather  against  it,  and  doubly  so  if  he  be  one 
who  should  protect  it ! ' 

Wilkins's  features  fairly  writhed  with  wrath.     Seizing  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  53 

girl  by  the  arm,  lie  dragged  her  to  the  table,  and  striking 
his  fist  upon  it  with  a  force  that  made  the  candlesticks  rattle, 
he  asked  :  '  Do  you  dare  deny  it  ?  —  that  you  have  met  Mm 
in  my  absence  —  false-hearted  as  you  are !  that  you  have 
seized  occasions  when  I  was  away  to  dishonor  me  —  to  make 
yourself — I  will  not  say  what.  Speak  !  speak,  I  say ;  do 
you  dare  deny  it  ? ' 

'  I  do  ! '  replied  the  girl,  confronting  him,  and  returning 
his  look  without  blenching ;  '  I  dare  deny  it,  and  I  do  ;  and 
whoever  invented  this  tale  is  a  false-hearted  liar,  be  it  man 
or  woman  — /  say  so.  Who  is  it  ?  Bring  me  to  him ;  place 
me  face  to  face  with  him,  and  then  let  him  dare  to  utter  it. 
Who  is  it  ?  ' 

'You'll  find  out  soon  enough,'  said  Wilkins,  savagely; 
and  he  jerked  her  arm  from  him ;  '  sooner  than  you  want  to.7 

'  No  !  not  sooner  than  that,'  replied  Lucy,  again  approach 
ing  him  ;  '  it  never  can  be  too  soon.  Now  —  here !  I  am 
ready.' 

'  Keep  off !  she-devil ! '  exclaimed  Wilkins,  in  turn  terrified 
by  her  wild  eye  and  frenzied  actions :  '  keep  off ;  you  had 
better.' 

'  I  will  not,  until  you  tell  me  the  name  of  the  slanderer. 
Tell  me,  will  you « ' 

'  Keep  off,  I  say,'  said  Wilkins,  retreating. 

*  I  will  not !  Tell  me  !  tell  me  ! '  repeated  she,  looking 
up  in  his  face  in  supplication.  Wilkins  clenched  his  fist  and 
struck  her  to  the  floor. 

If  ever  there  was  a  felon  stroke  it  was  that :  and  he  felt 
it  so  ;  for  his  arms  fell  powerless  at  his  side,  and  he  trembled 
at  the  outburst  which  he  thought  would  follow  :  but  it  did 
not.  Without  cry  or  word  Lucy  rose  from  the  floor,  and 
holding  her  hair  from  her  temples,  looked  him  full  in  the 
eyes.  Every  drop  of  blood  had  deserted  her  face,  and  was 


54  THE    ATTORNEY. 

gathered  about  her  heart.  Her  breath  came  thick  and  hard, 
and  there  was  something  terrible  in  the  dark,  dilating  eye, 
as  she  paused  for  an  instant  and  fixed  it  upon  the  wretched 
man  who  stood  before  her,  cowering  and  conscience-smitten. 
She  walked  across  the  room  and  took  her  bonnet  and  shawl 
from  a  peg  on  which  they  were  hanging. 

4  Where  are  you  going  ? '  at  length  asked  her  husband. 
The  girl  made  no  reply,  but  proceeded  to  tie  the  strings  of 
her  bonnet,  and  turned  toward  the  door. 

1  Where  are  you  going  at  this  hour  ? '  again  asked  Wil- 
kins,  walking  toward  her  ;  but  she  waved  him  back. 

4  God  only  knows !  —  but  this  is  no  longer  a  home  for  me.' 
As  she  spoke,  she  rushed  out.  With  disordered  steps  she 
ran  along  the  dark  streets.  She  did  not  heed  the  direction 
which  she  took,  nor  did  she  notice  that  persons,  attracted  by 
her  appearance  and  excited  manner,  turned  to  gaze  at  her. 
There  was  that  in  her  heart  which  deadened  all  external 
sense.  Several  times  she  was  spoken  to  by  those  who,  at 
tracted  by  her  beauty,  augured  ill  of  her  character,  by  see 
ing  her  alone  and  unprotected  at  such  an  hour  of  the  night; 
she  heeded  them  not,  but  rushed  on,  guided  only  by  the 
fierce  impulses  of  a  broken  heart,  until  they  left  her.  She 
traversed  the  damp  streets  until  they  grew  more  and  more 
lonely  :  the  busy  stir  of  evening  had  gradually  subsided  ;  the 
w«-ary  and  the.  wicked,  the  happy  and  the  wretched,  had 
long  since  gone  to  their  beds,  and  the  only  sound  that  broke 
through  the  night-stillness  was  the  melancholy  clink  of  the 
watchman's  club  upon  the  pavement,  or  the  drowsy  song  of 
some  midnight  bacchanal,  as  In;  staggered  home  to  sleep  off 
his  potations  in  nightmare  dreams.  To  the  poor  girl  there 
was  no  h.>me;  and  after  wandering  about  nearly  the,  whole 
night,  nature  gave  way  ;  and  sinking  down  on  the  steps  of  a 
large  house,  she  fell  into  a  swoon. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  55 


WHAT  a  dreary  thing  it  is,  Mr.  EDITOR,  to  walk  through 
the  crowded  street,  and  see  smiles  wreathing  around  bright 
faces,  when  they  meet  faces  as  bright  as  themselves ;  glad 
eyes  lighting  up  at  the  sight  of  those  whom  they  love ;  friend 
meeting  friend  with  kind  wishes  and  inquiries ;  and  then  to 
look  in  upon  your  own  lonely  heart,  and  feel  that  none  of 
these  are  for  you.  None  in  that  crowd  knew,  as  I  lingered 
near  them,  that  the  threadbare  old  man  at  their  elbow  was 
loitering  there  only  to  hear  a  tone  from  the  heart,  although 
addressed  to  a  stranger.  But  that  is  past ;  and  although  at 
the  commencement  of  my  'Correspondence'  my  friends  were 
limited  to  a  small  boy  and  a  dog  of  no  great  respectability, 
and  my  acquaintances  to  a  testy  gentleman  with  thin  legs 
and  green  spectacles,  and  a  woman  who  sells  vegetables  near 
me,  yet  I  have  suddenly  grown  into  importance.  I  am 
looked  up  to  by  the  neighbors  as  a  great  historian.  The  fame 
of  my  house  is  noised  abroad.  I  see  strangers  stopping  in 
front  of  it,  and  examining  it  with  an  air  of  mysterious  inter 
est  ;  and  a  small  man,  with  a  ragged  coat  and  a  dirty  face, 
sat  the  whole  of  yesterday  on  the  curb-stone  opposite,  making 
a  sketch  of  it. 

I  have  also  received  several  written  inquiries  respecting 
my  habits  and  history ;  and  my  correspondence  has  increased 
to  such  an  extent,  that  the  postman  claims  me  as  an  acquaint 
ance,  nods  familiarly  when  we  meet,  and  sometimes  holds  up 
a  letter  half  a  block  off:  There  is  something  exceedingly 
pleasant  and  cheering  in  the  expressions  of  good-will  which 
run  through  some  of  these  letters.  I  make  it  a  rule,  as  far 
as  I  can,  to  answer  them  punctually  ;  but  the  two  following 
having  been  sent  without  an  address,  before  continuing  my 
tale  I  trust  that  you  will  insert  them  with  my  reply. 


56  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  OH  !  MY  DEAR  MR.  QUOD  ! 

4  Do  n't  be  frightened — though  I  am.  You  Ve  mortally 
offended  our  lodger,  Mr.  Hotchkins,  the  gentleman  in  a 
snuff-colored  suit,  whose  epitaph  you  refused.  He  vows  he  '11 
be  the  death  of  you.  He 's  bought  a  bundle  of  quills,  a  bot 
tle  of  ink,  and  a  whole  ream  of  paper  —  but  no  pistol ;  and 
he  swears  he'll  review  you.  I  do  n't  know  what  that  means, 
but  I  suspect  it 's  some  kind  of  murder  ;  and  Mr.  Hotchkins 
is  a  dreadful  man.  All  the  children  are  afraid  of  him,  and 
he  does  hate  cats  so !  Ever  since  that  piece  of  yours  came 
out  in  print,  he  looks  so  very  dreadful,  that  whenever  I  hear 
him  unlock  his  room  door,  I  run  up  into  my  own,  and  shut 
myself  in  until  I  hear  him  go  out  of  the  street  door.  And 
I  dare  n't  ask  him  for  his  board  bill ;  and  he  owes  me  for  two 
weeks,  making  four  dollars  ;  and  for  washing  an  odd  stock 
ing,  a  cotton  handkerchief,  and  one  shirt  —  one  shilling ; 
which  is  very  cheap.  And  if  you  'd  like  it,  Mr.  Quod,  I  '11 
do  all  your  washing  on  the  same  terms ;  and  if  you  ever 
think  of  changing  your  lodgings,  I've  a  nice  little  room 
which  will  just  suit  you ;  and  a  dog  just  like  the  one  you 
have  ;  and  he  sha  n't  trouble  you  at  meal-times ;  and  your 
boy  may  come  to  see  you  whenever  you  like  —  I  'm  so  fond 
of  children  !  I  would  n't  dare  to  write  this  letter  if  Mr. 
Hotchkins  had  n't  gone  out,  for  fear  he  'd  find  it  out ;  he 's 
so  knowing,  and  I  'm  so  dreadful  afraid  of  him.  If  I  was  in 
your  place,  I  'd  go  straight  to  the  police  office  and  swear  the 
peace  ag'in  him  :  that  would  bring  him  to  his  senses,  if  any 
thing  would.  Do  n't  neglect  my  warning  ;  and  believe  me, 
'  Yours  lovingly,  ELIZA  SMITH.' 

'  P.  S.     Mending  is  extra.  E.  s.' 

The  next  letter  is  from  a  gentleman  who  appears  to  be 
long  to  that  respectable  fraternity  yclepcd  *  the  Fancy  : ' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  57 

4  MR.  JOHN  QUOD,  ESQ.  :  DEAR  SIR  : 

'  Just  inform  me,  will  you,  where  that  fellow  Rawley  lives. 
I  know  that  dog  of  his'n,  that  Bitters.  He's  my  dog 
Slaughter,  and  that  fellow  must  have  stole  him,  and  changed 
his  name.  There 's  no  mistake  about  it :  there  never  was 
another  so  like  Slaughter  as  that  Bitters,  except  Slaughter's 
own  self;  and  if  ever  I  lay  my  eyes  on  him,  (Rawley,  I 
mean,)  I  '11  set  my  ten  commandments  on  that  red  nose  of 
his  'n,  which  you  say  smells  at  the  necks  of  decanters,  though 
I  think  it  drinks  at  'em  too  ! 

'  That  Slaughter  is  come  of  a  first-rate  stock.  He 's  out 
of  Sleeping  Beauty,  and  his  sire  was  the  celebrated  bull-dog 
Murder,  who  was  game  to  the  very  teeth  —  to  the  teeth, 
Sir ;  and  you  '11  believe  it,  when  I  tell  you  how  he  died. 
They  set  him  at  a  bull,  and  he  took  him  just  by  the  nose, 
and  there  he  hung.  No  let  go  to  him  !  They  pounded  and 
beat  him,  but  it  was  of  no  use  :  so  at  last  those  infatuated 
individuals  determined  to  sacrifice  that  promising  dog,  merely 
for  obeying  the  impulses  of  his  natur'.  First,  they  chopped 
off  his  tail,  then  his  legs,  then  his  body :  but  his  head  hung 
on  until  they  forced  open  his  jaws  :  but  will  you  believe  it, 
Sir  ?  —  there  was  so  much  game  in  that  animal,  that  his  very 
teeth  would  n't  give  up ;  and  when  the  head  fell  off,  all  them 
grinders  remained  sticking  in  the  bull's  nose  :  and  they  was 
obliged  to  send  for  a  celebrated  dentist,  and  have  'em  all 
extracted,  at  a  dollar  a  tooth.  So  you  see,  Mr.  Quod,  what 
a  famous  stock  he 's  from  :  and  if  you  '11  only  tell  me  where 
that  Rawley  is,  you  '11  eternally  oblige  me  ;  and  I  '11  thrash 
Rawley,  and  send  you  a  pup  of  the  same  breed. 
1  Yours  to  the  very  marrow, 

*  ISAAC  SNAGG.' 

In  reply  to  the  letter  of  Mr.  Snagg,  I  can  only  say  that  I 
g* 


58  THE    ATTORNEY. 

cannot  now  inform  him  where  Mr.  Rawley  resides.  The 
events  narrated  in  that  part  of  the  *  Correspondence '  took 
place  several  years  since.  Mr.  Rawley  has  absconded,  and 
Bitters,  who  was  then  well  stricken  in  years,  is  probably 
gathered  to  his  fathers. 

From  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  thank  Mrs.  Smith  for  the 
friendly  caution  against  the  machinations  of  her  bloody- 
minded  lodger.  She  may  depend  on  it  I  will  keep  an  eye 
on  him,  and  in  pursuance  of  her  advice  will  consult  my  friend 
with  green  spectacles  and  thin  legs,  who  being,  as  I  have 
mentioned  before,  attached  to  the  police  office,  is  conversant 
with  such  matters,  and  no  doubt  can  give  me  many  salutary 
hints  on  the  subject.  As  regards  the  latter  part  of  Mrs. 
Smith's  letter,  I  would  mention,  that  my  washing  is  under 
the  superintendence  of  an  elderly  colored  lady,  from  whom 
I  am  reluctant  to  take  ik  at  present :  nor  have  I  any  inten 
tion  of  changing  my  quarters  :  but  should  I  do  so,  Mrs. 
Smith  may  be  assured  that  I  will  not  forget  the  kindly  feel 
ings  which  dictated  her  letter ;  and  if  Mr.  Hotchkins  were 
out  of  the  way,  that  I  could  no  where  feel  happier  than 
under  the  roof  of  one  who,  with  the  characteristic  benevo 
lence  of  her  sex,  has  extended  her  arm  to  shelter  from  injury 
a  stranger  who  had  no  other  claim  upon  her  than  that  given 
by  age  and  sorrow.  JOHN  QUOD. 


THE    ATTORNEY,  59 


CH  APTEE    V. 

FOR  more  than  an  hour  after  the  departure  of  his  wife, 
Wilkins  sat  listening  to  every  footstep  that  passed,  in  the 
expectation  that  she  would  return  ;  but  by  degrees  the  tread 
of  the  passers-by  grew  less  and  less  frequent,  and  presently 
the  deep  tones  of  a  neighboring  church-bell,  tolling  the  hour 
of  midnight,  rolled  through  the  air,  sounding  in  the  stillness 
of  the  night  like  a  knell.  Wilkins  sat  in  his  chair  and 
counted  the  strokes.  'One,  two,  three,  four  —  five,  six, 
seven,  eight  —  nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve  !  —  midnight ! '  said 
he,  drawing  a  long  breath,  and  looking  stealthily  around  the 
room,  '  and  not  home  yet ! '  He  went  to  the  window,  and, 
raising  the  paper  curtain,  looked  out  into  the  street.  The 
night,  which  was  clear  at  first,  had  become  damp  and  misty, 
and  the  pavement  was  covered  with  a  slimy  mud.  No  one 
was  stirring.  The  shops  were  all  shut,  and  the  street  was 
pitchy  dark,  except  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  a  lamp,  which 
diffused  a  sickly  yellow  light.  He  turned  from  the  window, 
and  going  to  the  bed,  threw  himself  upon  it,  and  endeavored  to 
sleep ;  but  the  last  look  of  his  wife  haunted  him.  He  fancied 
her  wandering  alone,  helpless  and  unprotected,  through  the 
dark  streets ;  he  thought  of  her  first  greeting  that  evening ; 
of  the  kind  and  ever-bright  heart  which  had  cheered  him  in 
the  early  days  of  his  marriage,  when  his  prospects  were 
better,  and  had  clung  to  him  but  the  more  closely  as  they 
darkened.  When  he  closed  his  eyes,  the  lids  seemed  to 
scorch  his  eye-balls ;  and  after  tossing  about  for  hours,  he 
sprang  up  with  a  deep  curs^,  and  walked  rapidly  up  and  down 


60  THE    ATTORNEY. 

the  room,  in  the  vain  hope  of  ridding  himself  of  the  fever 
of  his  own  thoughts.  He  attempted  to  strike  up  a  jovial 
song;  but  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  startled  him  into 
silence.  Now  the  idea  occurred  to  him  that  it  must  be  near 
morning,  and  he  went  to  the  window  and  looked  towards  the 
east,  in  hopes  of  seeing  the  daylight  glimmering  in  the  sky  : 
but  all  was  dark.  He  listened  for  the  striking  of  the  clock. 
Never  did  time  move  so  sluggishly ;  but  at  length  it  came : 
1  One,  two,  three  —  three  o'clock !  Three  good  hours  to 
daylight !  I  can't  sleep  ! '  he  muttered,  looking  at  the  bed : 
'no,  d  —  n  it!  I'll  not  lie  there  and  be  haunted  by  her. 
Her  !  I  wonder  where  she  is  ?  Where !  —  what  do  I  care  ? 
Have  I  not  got  what  I  wanted  ?  Has  n't  she,  of  her  own 
free  will,  deserted  me  ?  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  I  'm  in  luck !  How 
light  my  heart  feels  at  my  riddance ! ' 

He  paused,  for  he  knew  that  he  lied.  He  felt  that  he  was 
a  villain.  He  took  up  the  light,  went  to  a  small  glass,  and 
perused  his  face,  to  see  if  a  curse  were  not  branded  there. 
He  gazed  and  gazed,  until  he  fancied  that  he  could  trace  the 
impress  of  every  evil  passion,  stamped  upon  it  as  with  a  fiery 
seal,  in  characters  which  none  could  mistake.  In  a  savage 
humor  with  himself  and  all  the  world,  he  clenched  his  teeth, 
and  muttered :  *  Well,  it  is  written  there ;  my  every  look 
says  it ;  and  by  G  -  d,  I  '11  not  belie  my  own  face  !  And 
now,'  said  he,  tossing  himself  on  the  bed,  '  I  '11  sleep.' 

This  time  he  was  more  successful;  for  soon  his  deep, 
heavy  breathing,  and  his  motionless  position,  showed  that  his 
feverish  frame  for  a  time  at  least  was  at  rest. 

The  repose  of  the  guilty  is  ever  broken ;  and  when  the 
glad  light  of  morning  stole  into  his  chamber,  Wilkins  rose 
unrefreshed.  His  eyes  were  bloodshot,  his  mouth  parched, 
and  his  head  throbbed  violently.  He  stood  for  a  while, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  61 

ciently  to  recall  what  had  happened ;  then  dragging  a  chair 
to  the  black  chimney-place,  he  seated  himself  with  his  elbows 
resting  on  his  knees,  his  head  between  his  hands,  and  twist 
ing  his  fingers  in  his  matted  hair.  He  sat  thus,  neither 
moving  nor  speaking,  until  aroused  by  a  knock  at  the  door. 
'  Come  in,'  said  he,  without  altering  his  position.  The  door 
opened  gently,  and  but  partially.  '  Come  in,  I  say ! '  re 
peated  he,  looking  over  his  shoulder ;  *  no  one  will  bite  you.' 

The  person  thus  addressed  opened  the  door  widely,  walked 
in,  stared  around  inquiringly,  then  stopped  short,  and  looked 
at  Wilkins  as  if  to  seek  an  explanation. 

'  You  see,  Higgs,  she 's  off  I"1  said  Wilkins,  in  reply  to  the 
look  ;  '  cleared  out  last  night.  I  expected  it  long  ago.' 

'  Humph  ! '  replied  Higgs,  clearing  his  throat,  and  remain 
ing  exactly  in  the  same  position ;  '  I  expected  it  myself.  I 
thought  you  'd  drive  her  to  it  at  last.  Women  ain't  iron,  nor 
brutes.' 

'  I  know  all  women  are  not,'  replied  Wilkins,  averting  his 
face  with  a  feeling  of  shame  which  he  could  not  shake  off ; 
but  some  are.' 

'And  so  are  some  men]  replied  Higgs,  with  the  same  im 
perturbable  composure. 

'  Holloa,  there ! '  exclaimed  Wilkins,  pushing  his  chair 
about,  so  that  he  faced  his  friend,  and  sitting  bolt  upright ; 
*  what 's  in  the  wind  now  ?  Was  it  a  sermon  ^ou  were  writing 
last  night,  and  have  you  come  here  to  preach  it  ? ' 

*  George,'  said  Higgs  with  some  solemnity,  *  I  have  not 
pressed  a  bed  since  the  night  before  last ;  nor,  excepting  a 
hard  apple,  have  I  tasted  any  thing  but  water  since  then. 
Under  this  accumulation  of  emptiness,  I  feel  moral.' 

'  The  devil  you  do  ! '  said  Wilkins,  rising  and  going  to  the 
cupboard,  from  which  he  drew  a  bottle  and  a  tin  cup,  and 
han  Jed  them  to  Higgs  ;  '  then  the  sooner  you  get  rid  of  your 


(>•_>  mi:   A  TTO  i;  x  i-  Y. 

morality,  the  bettor.  Drink  deep,'  said  he ;  k  it,  will  clear 
your  ideas.' 

'  1  think  so  myself,'  replied  lliggs,  tossing  oiV  about  :i  gill 
of  pure  brandy,  and  again  pouring  into  the  cup  the  same 
quantity,  which  he  disposed  of  with  equal  celerity.  'That 
will  do  for  the  present;  but  don't  lock  it  up/  said  he,  re 
turning  the  bottle  to  Wilkius,  and  wiping  his  mouth  with 
the  back  of  his  hand. 

\Vilkins  took  it,  poured  out  some  of  the  liquor,  drank  it 
otV  at  a  swallow,  replaced  the  bottle  and  cup,  but  without 
locking  the  cupboard,  and  made  a  sign  to  Higgs  to  draw  i\ 
chair  to  the  table. 

For  some  moments  these  two  wort  1  lies  sat  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  table,  each  intently  scrutinizing  the  countenance 
of  the  other. 

'  Well,'  said  lliggs,  wearied  with  this  long  examination  of 
lineaments  which,  to  confess  the  truth,  were  not  the  most 
prepossessing  in  the  world,  and  whose  natural  deficiencies 
were  not  at  all  diminished  by  the  lack  of  a  very  recent  ap 
plication  of  either  water  or  a  razor;  'I'm  a  beauty,  ain't  I?' 

'  What  did  you  mean  by  your  speech  to  me,  when  you 
came  in  .' '  demanded  Wilkins,  distrustfully,  without  heeding 
the  remark,  and  without  turning  his  eyes  from  the  face  of 
his  visitor. 

'  I  meant  poverty  and  thirst ! '  replied  Higgs,  leaning  back 
in  his  chair,  and  returning,  without  quailing,  the  stern  in 
quiring  glance  of  his  comrade. 

'And  you  will  abide  by  the  agreement  of  last  night  .; '  de 
manded  Wilkins,  without  abatement  of  the  harshiK^s  of  his 
voice. 

'That  's  what  I  came  for,'  replied  lliggs,  quietly. 

*  You  '11  give  every  aid  you  can  I ' 

*  i  win: 


THE    ATTORNEY.  63 

'And  will  never  blab  ? ' 

'No.' 

'  Higgs,'  said  Wilkins,  '  I  have  known  you  many  a  long 
year,  and  I  believe  you  ;  but  remember  this :  if  we  succeed, 
you  shall  have  your  pay  in  full  —  down  to  the  very  cent  ; 
but  your  mouth  must  be  as  close  as  the  grave ;  for  if  you 
betray  us,  there  will  be  one  man  murdered  whose  name  I 
could  mention.' 

'Well,  I'll  agree  to  it.  And  now  about  Lucy  —  your 
wife?' 

'  You  '11  swear  strong  there  ? '  said  Wilkins,  mastering  an 
evident  disinclination  to  speak  of  her.  '  Last  night's  freak, 
cunningly  worked  up,  will  tell  strongly  against  her.  If  that 
fails,  we  must  not  want  other  evidence.  When  we  have 
once  commenced,  we  must  not  be  foiled.' 

'  Trust  to  me,'  replied  Higgs.  '  If  swearing  will  carry  the 
matter  through,  you  may  consider  it  settled.  I  feel  a  strong 
personal  interest  in  the  affair.' 

'Ah  !  ha ! '  said  Wilkins,  '  the  thousand  touches  you 
nearly,  does  it  ? ' 

'No,'  returned  his  companion,  with  a  sentimental  shake 
of  the  head,  at  the  same  time  pulling  up  his  stock  ;  '  it 's  not 
that.  The  cash  is  not  amiss ;  but  all  my  feelings  are  not 
mercenary.' 

Wilkins  was  touched  at  the  disinterestedness  of  his  com 
rade,  and  extending  his  hand  to  him,  said :  '  I  was  wrong, 
Bill,  to  doubt  you;  you  are  a  good  fellow  —  you  are  &, 
friend? 

'  So  I  am,'  returned  the  other ;  '  but  it  was  n't  that  that  I 
meant.' 

'  Well,  then,'  said  Wilkins,  with  some  abatement  in  the 
fervor  of  his  gratitude,  '  what  did  you  mean  ? ' 

4  Why,'  replied  his  friend,  '  I  have  been  thinking  that  when 


64  THE    ATTORNEY. 

you  had  obtained  this  divorce,  and  you  and  Lucy  were  cut 
adrift,  that  /  would  marry  her  myself.  I  always  had  a  liking 
for  that  woman.' 

ILid  a  bullet  pierced  Wilkins  to  the  heart,  the  pang  could 
not  have  been  greater.  His  arms  fell  powerless.  Every  fibre 
of  his  sinewy  frame  relaxed  ;  his  face  grew  wan  and  ghastly ; 
and  he  sank  back  in  his  chair  as  if  smitten  with  death  ;  his 
jaw  hanging  down,  and  his  eyes  staring  with  a  hideous  glare 
upon  Higgs. 

'  God !  George !  what 's  the  matter  ? '  exclaimed  that  gen 
tleman,  springing  up,  and  instinctively  rushing  to  the  cup 
board  for  the  liquor.  *  Here,  swallow  this,'  said  he,  extending 
a  cupful ;  '  here,  it  will  do  you  good.  What  ails  you  ? ' 

Nothing,  nothing,'  returned  Wilkins,  putting  aside  the 
cup  ;  '  't  is  past  now.  I  have  -these  turns  sometimes.  But, 
Higgs,  I  think  you  had  better  not  marry  Luey.  You  do  n't 
know  her ;  you  '11  repent  it.' 

'  I  '11  risk  it,'  replied  the  other,  replacing  the  bottle.  'As 
soon  as  the  divorce  is  granted,  I  '11  make  the  attempt.' 

Again  Wilkins  felt  that  sensation  of  deadly  faintness ;  but 
he  bore  up  against  it. 

'  I  'm  not  too  well-to-do  in  the  world  at  present,'  continued 
Higgs ;  *  but  when  I  Ve  touched  the  thousand  you  promised, 
we  '11  go  to  the  countiy,  and  be  quite  snug  and  comfortable.' 

Never,  since  the  early  days  of  their  marriage,  had  the  love 
of  Lucy  appeared  so  enviable  as  when  he  heard  the  coarse- 
minded  man  at  his  side  speaking  of  her  as  his  own.  'A 
thousand  ! '  If  he  but  had  it,  he  would  give  up  the  widow  — 
all — to  have  Lucy  with  him ;  to  see  her  happy  face  looking 
up  in  his,  and  to  know  that  there  was  one  who  would  cling 
to  him  to  the  last.  In  the  midst  of  these  thoughts,  the  re 
collection  of  the  preceding  night  came  gloomily  over  him. 
Fearful,  however,  of  exhibiting  his  emotions,  he  turned  to 


THE    ATTORNEY.  65 

Higgs,  and  said  with  a  sneer  :  '  Well,  success  to  your  suit ! 
I  wish  you  joy  of  your  wife  with  a  tainted  fame.' 

'  But  won't  I  know  how  little  she  deserves  it ! '  exclaimed 
Higgs,  with  more  animation  than  was  usual  in  him  ;  '  won't 
/  know  that  her  like  does  n't  live,  and  that  all  attacks  upon 
her  are  false  !  I  ought  to  ! ' 

Wilkins  felt  that  he  was  caught  in  his  own  snare.  Now 
was  the  time  for  his  fate  to  be  decided — to  go  on,  or  to  stop 
at  the  threshold  of  crime.  For  a  moment  he  hesitated.  The 
struggle  was  short,  but  it  was  fearful.  The  decision  was 
made,  and  by  it  he  marked  out  for  himself  a  course  of  crime 
and  misery  which,  had  he  known  its  full  bitterness,  would 
have  sickened  his  very  soul.  He  was  in  no  mood  to  continue 
his  conference ;  and,  making  a  plea  of  not  feeling  well,  he 
proposed  that  they  should  walk  out,  and  defer  the  discussion 
of  their  plans  to  some  more  convenient  occasion. 

'  Just  as  you  like,'  replied  Mr.  Higgs,  making  the  only 
change  that  his  means  afforded  him,  preparatory  to  going 
into  the  cold  air,  by  buttoning  the  lower  buttons  of  his  coat, 
and  thrusting  his  hands  into  his  breeches  pockets. 

Wilkins  flung  on  his  shaggy  over-coat ;  and  shutting  the 
door  after  them,  and  depositing  the  key  in  his  pocket,  the 
two  sallied  out  into  the  street. 


66  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

IN  a  by-street,  which  meandered  to  its  destination  with  all 
the  devious  windings  of  a  drunken  man,  was  a  small  eating- 
shop,  down  six  steps  in  a  cellar,  and  with  glass  doors  shaded 
by  scanty  curtains  of  red  moreen.  From  time  immemorial 
it  had  been  an  eating-house,  and  had  been  distinguished  by 
a  sign  over  the  entrance,  representing  an  elderly  gentleman 
with  a  large  stomach,  a  fat  face,  and  a  fiery  nose,  seated  at  a 
table,  griping  in  his  hand  a  fork,  stuck  to  the  handle  in  a 
sirloin  of  beef,  and  looking  venomously  at  a  lean  little  fellow 
with  mazarine  blue  eyes  and  dimity  small-clothes,  who  occu 
pied  a  small  corner  of  the  same  picture.  The  old  gentleman 
was  typical  of  the  larder  below,  and  was  meant  to  be  illus 
trative  of  the  state  to  which  hard  eating  and  hard  drinking, 
backed  by  a  good  digestion,  would  bring  a  man  ;  but  if  he 
was  intended  as  a  bait  for  the  passers-by,  he  was  certainly  a 
most  unternpting  one ;  for  a  more  uncomfortable,  ill-looking, 
irascible,  red-nosed  old  gentleman,  one  would  scarcely  wish  to 
see.  The  thin  man  was  a  pale,  half-starved  devil,  with  a 
hungry  eye,  who  looked  as  if  he  had  sucked  his  last  meal 
out  of  the  spout  of  a  bellows,  and  was  none  the  better  for  it. 
The  whole  picture  was  a  fable,  and  the  small  eating-house 
below,  with  its  six  steps  and  red  curtains,  was  the  moral 
to  it. 

But  Time  had  had  a  word  to  say  in  the  matter.  The  sign 
board  had  hung  there  year  in  and  year  out.  The  school 
boys  who  had  pelted  it  with  stones  and  snow-balls  had  grown 
into  men,  and  others  had  taken  their  place* ;  but  there  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  67 

old  sign  still  hung.  Its  typical  character,  however,  was 
changed ;  for  although  the  old  gentleman  retained  his  rotund 
ity  of  abdomen,  he  had  acquired  a  thread-bare  look ;  his 
face  had  subsided  into  a  pale,  unhealthy  brick  color;  his 
eyes  were  fixed  intently  on  nothing,  which  he  seemed  to  see 
at  the  far  end  of  the  street ;  and,  as  the  penalty  of  his  former 
high  living,  he  appeared  to  be  going  off  in  a  severe  dropsy. 
As  for  the  pale  man,  he  had  gradually  withdrawn  himself 
from  the  public  gaze  ;  and  a  pair  of  sickly  blue  eyes,  looking 
mournfully  out  of  the  sign-board,  alone  told  where  he  once 
had  been. 

Whatever  may  have  taken  place  in  the  sign-board,  the 
eating-house  still  held  its  ground.  It  was  none  of  your 
new-fangled  establishments  which  aspire  to  French  cookery 
and  clean  table-covers.  It  was  a  solemn  place ;  dark,  damp 
and  smoky,  with  dingy  table-cloths,  broken  castors,  and  the 
usual  number  of  dead  flies  reposing  at  the  bottom  of  the 
oil-cruet. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  small  stove,  near  which 
a  sleepy  bar-keeper  dozed  in  his  chair,  and  between  his  naps 
kept  an  uneasy  eye  on  a  customer  who  sat  at  a  small  table, 
with  his  hat  on,  his  coat  buttoned  to  the  chin,  and  his  legs 
resting  on  a  chair.  There  was  something  in  the  calm  com 
posure  of  the  man  not  to  be  mistaken.  It  was  Mr.  Higgs. 
He  had  long  since  finished  his  meal,  as  an  empty  dish  and 
plate  testified,  and  was  deeply  immersed  in  a  newspaper. 
Occasionally  he  raised  to  his  lips  a  small  mug  which  had 
contained  beer,  but  which  had  been  empty  more  than  an 
hour ;  and  then  plunged  into  the  paper  more  deeply  than 
ever.  At  every  rustle  of  the  paper,  the  bar-keeper  opened 
his  eyes  heavily  ;  concentrating  them  with  a  dull  leaden 
stare  on  Mr.  Higgs ;  wondered  what  there  could  be  in  that 
paper  to  take  up  so  much  of  his  attention;  why  he  did 


68  THE    ATTORNEY. 

not  pay  for  his  dinner  and  go ;  and  then,  in  the  midst  of 
these  reflections,  nodded  off  into  another  slumber.  Still 
Mr.  Higgs  read  on,  up  one  column  and  down  another ;  he 
turned  the  paper  over  and  over,  and  over  again.  It  grew 
dusky,  then  dark.  He  ordered  the  candles  which  stood  in 
the  bar  to  be  lighted,  and  slowly  and  deliberately  read  on  — 
every  thing,-  editorial,  statistical,  geographical ;  shipwrecks, 
accidents,  outrages,  marriages  and  deaths ;  and  then,  with 
a  coolness  that  was  perfectly  astounding,  he  commenced  upon 
the  advertisements.  Three  mortal  hours  had  he  been  there  ! 
The  bar-keeper  stood  bolt  upright  and  walked  across  the 
room,  coughed  violently,  and  poked  the  fire.  The,  fire  was 
getting  low,  which  made  the  dozing  uncomfortable ;  so  ho 
went  for  wood.  No  sooner  was  he  out  of  the  room  than 
Mr.  Higgs  arose,  sauntered  leisurely  to  the  door,  sprang  up 
the  steps,  and  scampered  off  at  full  speed ;  forgetting  in 
his  hurry  to  pay  his  bill.  He  darted  up  one  street,  down 
another,  and  across  a  third,  around  corners,  and  altogether 
showed  a  knowledge  of  blind  alleys  and  dark  passages  that 
was  perfectly  wonderful.  At  last  he  turned  into  a  wide 
street,  at  some  distance  from  where  he  started.  Here  he 
subdued  his  pace  to  a  rapid  walk. 

He  had  agreed  to  meet  Wilkins  at  a  particular  hour,  and 
as  it  was  near  the  time,  he  made  directly  for  the  place  where 
he  expected  to  find  him.  It  was  a  cold,  damp  night :  the 
sky  was  filled  with  murky  clouds,  drifting  across  the  black 
heavens  like  an  army  of  spectres  hurrying  forward  on  some 
ill-omened  errand.  The  streets  were  wet  and  sloppy ;  the 
shop-windows  covered  with  a  dense  moisture,  which  trickled 
down  them  like  tears ;  and  the  lamps  inside  emitted  a  glim 
mering  light,  just  enough  to  show  how  dismal  the  streets 
were,  without  cheering  them. 

Higgs,  however,  wended  his  way,  impenetrable  to  cold  and 


THE    ATTORNEY.  69 

damp.  He  met  a  few  people  muffled  to  the  throat,  with 
their  heads  bent  down,  to  keep  the  mist  out  of  their  faces. 
In  one  street  he  passed  a  shivering  woman,  crouching  in  a 
dark  door-way,  and  in  another  an  old  shed,  under  which  a 
beggar-boy  was  sleeping  soundly  on  the  damp  ground,  with 
a  rough,  wiry  dog  keeping  watch  at  his  side.  He  did  not 
stop  until  he  came  in  front  of  a  small  house,  in  a  dark  cross- 
street,  with  a  lamp  before  it,  on  which  was  written  in  red 
letters,  '  QUAGLEY'S  RETREAT.'  Without  knocking,  he  opened 
the  door,  and  found  himself  in  a  room  brilliantly  lighted 
with  gas,  and  having  a  billiard-table  in  the  centre  of  it.  One 
or  two  rough-looking  men  were  lolling  on  wooden  settees : 
two  others  were  engaged  in  playing  at  the  table ;  and  a 
stunted  boy,  with  a  square  mouth,  officiated  as  marker,  and 
kept  the  score  of  the  game.  In  one  corner  Mr.  Quagley  was 
reposing  on  a  wooden  bench,  laboring  to  get  through  a 
profound  slumber  into  which  he  had  been  forced  by  the 
united  efforts  of  six  tumblers  of  water,  liberally  diluted  with 
gin,  and  casually  imbibed  by  him  in  the  course  of  the  last 
hour. 

Higgs  paused  as  he  entered,  took  off  his  hat  and  knocked 
it  against  the  wall,  to  shake  off  the  moisture ;  unbuttoned 
his  coat,  and  taking  it  by  the  collar,  shook  it  violently, 
stamped  on  the  floor  as  if  he  intended  to  kick  a  hole  through 
it,  then  replaced  his  hat,  buttoned  his  coat,  seated  himself 
on  a  bench  near  the  table,  and  looked  at  the  stunted  marker, 
who  returned  his  stare  without  flinching.  Higgs  nodded  to 
the  stunted  marker,  and  the  stunted  marker  nodded  back 
again. 

'  Holloa ! '  said  Higgs,  addressing  him. 

'  Holloa  yerself ! '  replied  the  boy,  without  moving. 

*  Have  n't  you  got  legs  ? '  demanded  Mr.  Higgs. 

*  Yes,  I  have,'  said  the  boy,  looking  complacently  down 


70  THE    ATTORNEY. 

at  two  slim  supporters,  which  were  comforting  themselves 
with  the  mistaken  idea  that  they  filled  a  large  pair  of  inex 
pressibles. 

'  Well,  can't  you  use  them  ? '  demanded  Mr.  Higgs. 

*  Yes,  I  can,'  said  the  lad,  without  stirring,  except  to  count 
up  the  scores  of  the  two  players. 

'  Well,  why  do  n't  you  ? ' 

'I  am  a-usin'  'em,'  said  he,  straightening  himself  up,  to 
show  fully  what  a  weight  those  two  slim  legs  were  support 
ing. 

'  You  are  a  nice  boy,'  said  Higgs,  looking  at  him  with  a 
very  supercilious  eye. 

*  I  know  I  am,'  replied  the  boy,  returning  his  stare  with 
interest. 

*  Of  course  you  are.     Who 's  your  mother  ? ' 

*  Who  's  yourn  ? '  said  the   stunted   marker,  giving   his 
square  mouth  an  agonized  twist,  by  which  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  deceiving  himself  into  the  belief  that  he  was  laugh 
ing,  and  concluding  the  performance  by  thrusting  his  tongue 
into  his  cheek,  pulling  down  the  corner  of  his  eye,  applying 
the  end  of  his  thumb  to  the  tip  of  his  nose,  and  at  the  same 
time  indulging  the  rest  of  his  fingers  in  a  few  aerial  gyrations. 
Having  got  through  these,  and  several  other  lucid  gesticula 
tions,  by  which  small  boys  are  in  the  habit  of  testifying  their 
sense  of  keen  enjoyment,  he  settled  down  into  a  subdued 
gravity,  and  went  on  scoring  the  game  as  if  nothing  had 
happened. 

'  Now  that  you  've  got  through  that  pleasant  performance, 
said  Mr.  Higgs,  '  perhaps  you  can  answer  a  plain  question.' 

'  Perhaps  I  can,'  said  the  boy,  standing  bolt  upright,  and 
shouldering  his  stick. 

'  Has  Wilkins  been  here  to-night  ? ' 

*  No,  he  has  n't,'  he  replied ;  *  nor  I  do  n't  care  if  he  do  ir*t 


THE    ATTORNEY.  1l 

come,'  he  added  gratuitously  ;  '  that 's  more.'  As  he  said 
this,  he  instantly  set  about  repeating  the  performance  which 
he  had  just  concluded,  with  embellishments. 

'  Holloa  there  ! '  shouted  Mr.  Quagley,  awakening  in  the 
midst  of  the  exhibition,  and  rising  from  his  recumbent  posi 
tion,  and  looking  full  at  the  boy,  who  became  grave  instantly. 
'A  cussed  nice  sort  of  baby  you  are ;  a  sweet  'un  !  'Tend  to 
what  you  Ve  got  to  do,  will  you  ?  None  of  them  shines 
here  —  mind  that.  They  won't  go  down.'  And  Mr.  Quagley 
shook  his  head  at  the  boy,  in  a  manner  which  irjtiniated  that 
if  what  he  had  said  did  not  operate,  he  might  be  induced  to 
administer  a  more  powerful  medicine,  that  would. 

As  he  spoke,  Mr.  Quagley  rose,  and  still  keeping  an  eye 
on  the  stunted  marker,  and  giving  his  head  one  or  two  addi 
tional  shakes,  partly  to  settle  his  brains  in  their  right  place, 
and  partly  to  let  the.  boy  know  that  he  was  in  earnest,  walked 
across  the  room,  and  seated  himself  at  the  side  of  Higgs. 

'Mr.  Higgs,'  said  he,  solemnly,  'you  are  a  gentleman,  and 
can  appreciate  a  gentleman's  feelings.'  And  Mr.  Quagley 
paused  for  a  reply. 

'  I  hope  I  can,'  replied  the  person  thus  addressed. 

'  Well,  then,'  continued  Mr.  Quagley,  after  having  settled 
that  point  to  his  satisfaction,  '  you  see  that  there  boy  ; '  and 
he  nodded  towards  the  stunted  marker. 

Higgs  replied  that  he  believed  he  did. 

*  Well,  Sir,  I  keep  that  boy  on  his  poor  mother's  account. 
Now  that 's  honorable,  ain't  it  ? ' 

Mr.  Higgs  replied  that  it  was  —  very. 
'  I  knew  you  could  appreciate  a  gentleman's  feelings,'  said 
Mr.  Quagley.     <  What  '11  you  drink  ? ' 

*  Rum  cocktail,'  said  Higgs,  without  an  instant's  hesitation. 
'  Gin  slings  is  healthier  for  the  liver,'  said  Mr.  Quagley ; 

*  shall  it  be  slings  ? ' 


72  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  No,  a  rum  cocktail,'  replied  Higgs,  resolutely ;  '  it  can't 
hurt  my  liver ;  I  ain't  got  one.' 

Mr.  Quagley  pondered  for  some  time,  as  to  the  possibility 
of  that  fact ;  but  after  having  made  several  desperate  efforts 
to  corner  an  idea  which  was  running  loose  in  his  head,  he 
said  it  was  no  matter,  and  went  off  to  prepare  the  drinks, 
with  which  he  soon  returned. 

Seating  himself  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Higgs,  he  pleasantly 
introduced  his  elbow  between  that  gentleman's  two  lowest 
ribs,  and  winking  at  the  stunted  marker,  whose  back  was 
toward  him,  said  :  *  He  's  one  of  the  tallest  kind,  that  boy.' 

'  He  does  n't  look  so,'  said  Mr.  Higgs,  removing,  with  the 
end  of  his  little  finger,  a  small  speck  which  was  floating  in 
his  tumbler. 

'  I  know  he  do  n't,  but  he  is.  I  mean  in  character,  you 
know? 

1  Oh  ! '  said  Mr.  Higgs,  « that 's  it.' 

*  Yes,  that 's  it.     He 's  a  boy  of  the  tallest  kidney.' 

*  I  should  think  he  was  ;  and  then  he  has  so  many  pleas 
ant  little  ways  \vith  him,'  replied  Mr.  Hicfgs. 

*  Do  you  think  so  ? '  said  Mr.  Quagley,  earnestly. 

'  Well,  I  think  so  myself;  but  then  you  know  it  would  n't 
do  to  let  him  know  it,  you  know.  It  'ud  spile  him.' 

'  Of  course  it  would,'  said  Mr.  Higgs,  gently  shaking  his 
glass,  to  stir  up  the  sugar  in  the  bottom  of  it ;  *  of  course  it 
would.' 

'  Do  n't  be  a-lookin'  here  ! '  shouted  Mr.  Quagley  to  the 
boy,  in  pursuance  of  his  system.  *  You  'm  to  look  at  the 
table,  and  you  'm  to  mark  the  game ;  and  if  you  do  n't, 
you  'm  to  be  wollopped.' 

*  That 's  the  way  to  larn  'em,'  said  Mr.  Quagley,  in  a  low 
tone,  in  continuation  of  his  observation.      'Good-evening, 
Sir ;  a  stormy  night.'     This  last  remark  was  addressed  to 


T21&    ATTORNEY.  73 

Willdns,  who  had  just  entered,  and  was  standing  a  few  feet 
inside  of  the  door,  with  his  hand  shading  his  eyes  from  the 
strong  light,  and  looking  about  him,  to  see  who  were  in  the 
room. 

'  Oh  !  you  are  here,  are  you  ? '  said  he,  coming  up  to  Higgs. 
*  It 's  time  we  were  on  the  move.  Come.' 

Higgs  rose,  and  bidding  Mr.  Quagley  '  Good-night,'  fol- 
owed  his  comrade  into  the  street. 

'What  o'clock  is  it? '  asked  Wilkins,  who  seemed  in  one 
of  his  most  sullen  moods. 

*  I  do  n't  know ;  'most  ten,  I  s'pose.' 

Without  making  any  remark,  with  his  teeth  set,  and  a 
scowl  on  his  face,  Wilkins  led  the  way  until  he  came  to  tho 
house  in  which  the  attorney  had  his  office. 

'  There  's  where  he  keeps,'  said  he,  pointing  to  the  old 
building,  towering  far  above  them  in  the  darkness,  and  appa 
rently  stretching  out  its  arms  to  beckon  them  on.  '  It  will 
tumble  down  some  day,  and  I  wish  it  was  down  now ;  for  I 
never  go  into  it  without  feeling  as  if  I  were  entering  the  gate 
of  hell.' 

Higgs  stood  in  front  of  the  house,  and,  as  well  as  the  darfr- 
ness  would  permit,  surveyed  it  from  top  to  bottom.  '  Quite 
an  elderly  mansion.  I  do  n't  half  lite  it.  D d  if  I  be 
lieve  a  man  who  lives  in  cucn  a  house  can  pay  ;  and  d d 

if  I  work  without  ifc  —  that 's  plump  ! '  As  he  said  this,  he 
thrust  bh  hands  to  the  very  bottom  of  his  pockets,  and 
pl°".ied  his  feet  on  the  ground,  with  an  expression  that 
seemed  to  say  to  them,  '  Stir  at  your  peril !' 

'  Come  along,  will  you  ? '  said  Wilkins,  impatiently :  '  you 
have  nothing  to  fear.  You  need  n't  do  any  thing  till  you  're 
paid.  You  can  hear  what  he  's  got  to  say,  and  if  you  do  n't 
choose  to  take  a  part  in  it,  you  need  n't.  You  'd  better, 
though. 

4 


Y4  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  Well,  go  on,'  said  Higgs,  apparently  satisfied.  '  Lead  the 
way ;  for  it 's  bloody  dark,  and  smells  as  damp  and  close  as 
a  churchyard.' 

Groping  their  way  into  the  dilapidated  door-way,  they 
came  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

'  Here  we  are,'  said  Wilkins,  pausing.  '  Up  that  stairs, 
and  we  are  at  his  room.  Now  mind  Hie,  Higgs  ;  if  the  pay 's 
good,  you  are  to  have  no  quaking  nor  qualms  ;  not  a  muscle 
must  move.  He 's  got  an  eye  like  an  eagle,  and  it  won't 
escape  him.' 

Higgs  uttered  a  low,  significant  laugh,  and  pulling  down 
his  coat,  and  up  his  cravat,  by  way  of  giving  additional  re 
spectability  to  his  appearance,  said :  *  Pshaw !  go  on,  won't 
you  ? ' 

Wilkins,  reassured  by  the  indifferent  manner  of  his  com 
rade,  ascended  the  narrow  stairs,  and  feeling  his  way  along 
a  dark  passage,  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  office. 

To  this  there  was  no  reply. 

*  He  's  not  in,'  said  Higgs. 

*  Yes  he  is.     He 's  hiding  his  papers.     He  's  not  sure  who 
are  standing  on  this  side  of  the  door.     Click,  slam ;  there 
goes  the  door  of  his  iron  safe ;  they  are  under  lock  and  key. 
Now  I  '11  knock  again.' 

As  he  spoke,  Wilkins  applied  the  head  of  his  stick  to  the 
door.  The  next  moment  a  cautious  step  was  heard,  the  key 
was  noiselessly  turned,  to  induce  the  supposition  that  the 
door  had  not  been  locked,  and  in  a  few  seconds  they  were 
told  to  come  in. 

On  entering,  they  found  the  attorney  sitting  at  a  table 
strewed  with  papers,  one  of  which  he  appeared  to  be  perus 
ing.  His  hair  was  disordered  ;  his  face  pale  and  wan,  as  if 
from  fatigue ;  and  his  whole  person  in  disarray.  He  did  not 
look  up,  until  they  were  near  the  table,  and  then  carelessly, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  75 

as  if  he  scarcely  noticed  their  entrance.  No  sooner,  however, 
did  he  see  who  they  were,  than  he  threw  the  paper  aside,  rose 
and  said : 

'  So  you  Ve  come.     I  am  glad  of  it.' 

'  I  thought  you  'd  be,'  said  Wilkins.  '  This  is  the  man  I 
spoke  of,'  he  added,  jerking  his  head  sideways  toward  Higgs, 
who  stood  eyeing  the  attorney  from  head  to  foot.  'He 
knows  all  about  it ;  so  you  are  saved  the  trouble  of  telling 
the  story  over  again.' 

Without  replying,  Bolton  opened  the  door  and  looked 
down  the  passage.  He  then  locked  it,  led  his  visitors  into 
the  back  office,  closed  the  door,  and  taking  one  of  the  lights 
from  .the  table,  held  it  up  in  Higgs's  face.  Never  perhaps 
had  two  pairs  of  more  unflinching  eyes  met.  Every  line, 
everv  feature,  every  muscle,  was  examined  and  reexamined. 
At  last  Bolton  replaced  the  light,  and  said  that  he  was  satis 
fied  ;  to  which  Higgs  replied  that  he  was  glad  of  it,  for  he 
thought  he  never  would  be. 

Bolton  took  the  reply  in  good  part,  and  after  a  few  re 
marks,  proposed  to  proceed  to  business,  for  which  the  two 
worthies  expressed  themselves  perfectly  ready. 

Opening  the  iron  safe,  he  took  out  a  paper,  on  which  was 
endorsed  in  large  letters,  '  Last  Will  and  Testament  of  John 
Crawford? 

'  Is  that  the  new  one  ? '  asked  Wilkins,  as  he  brought  the 
paper  to  the  light. 

'  That 's  it.' 

'And  without  the  legacy  ? ' 

'  Yes  ;  he  has  altered  his  mind  since  I  saw  you,'  said  the 
attorney,  laughing,  *  and  I  drew  the  paper  to  suit  him.' 

'  I  supposed  he  would,'  said  Wilkins ;  '  how  is  the  old 
fellow  ? ' 

'  He  holds  out  yet,  but  they  say  he  won't  last  long.' 


76  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'And  the  girl,  his  daughter — his  natural  daughter  —  how 
will  she  take  his  death  ? ' 

'  She  do  n't  know  about  it  yet.  When  she  finds  it  out,  it 
will  be  a  perfect  hurricane,  but  it  will  soon  blow  over.' 

Wilkins  replied  that  he  supposed  so  ;  and  Higgs,  not  feel 
ing  any  particular  interest  in  the  conversation,  amused  him 
self  by  smelling  at  the  mouth  of  a  bottle  on  the  mantel-piece. 
On  ascertaining  that  it  contained  ink,  he  comforted  himself 
with  a  very  moderate  draught  of  cold  water  from  the  pitcher, 
and  seating  himself  near  the  fire,  set  about  heating  the  poker 
through  the  bars  of  the  grate. 

After  some  farther  conversation,  Bolton  asked  Higgs  if  he 
were  ready  to  witness  the  paper,  to  which  that  gentleman 
replied  that  he  was  —  almost. 

'Are  you  acquainted  with  its  nature  ? '  asked  the  attorney. 

'  I  know  it 's  old  John  Crawford's  will ;  but  I  do  n't  know 
•what 's  in  it.' 

'  That 's  not  necessary,'  replied  Bolton.  '  You  are  to  swear 
that  you  saw  him  execute  it ;  that  he  declared  it  to  be  his 
last  will  and  testament,  and  asked  you  to  become  a  witness 
to  it ;  and  that  you  did  so  in  his  presence.  You  must  swear 
to  this.' 

'  Had  n't  I  better  read  it  ? ' 

'No;  you  are  not  expected  to  know  the  contents.  It 
would  be  suspicious  if  you  did.  He  would  n't  read  his  will 
to  a  stranger,  although  he  might  use  him  as  a  witness.' 

The  force  of  this  remark  seemed  to  strike  Mr.  Higgs,  who 
made  no  other  reply  than  returning  to  the  fire,  and  again 
introducing  the  poker  between  the  bars  of  the  grate. 

A  pen  was  handed  to  Wilkins,  \\lio  in  a  rough  bold  hand 
wrote  his  name  and  place  of  residence. 

'  Now,  Mr.  Higgs,'  said  Bolton,  turning  to  him,  '  will  you 
sign?' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  11 

1  I  was  told,'  said  Higgs,  pausing  in  his  occupation  at  the 
grate,  and  looking  up  at  the  attorney,  *  that  the  old  gentle 
man  had  requested  you  to  hand  me  over  a  thousand,  when 
I  became  a  witness  to  his  final  wind-up.' 

'A  check  is  filled  out  for  half  that  amount,  and  ready  for 
you,'  said  Bolton,  opening  a  drawer  in  the  table,  and  pro 
ducing  the  check.  *  The  other  five  hundred  will  be  yours 
when  the  will  is  proved.  It  will  be  in  a  fortnight  or  so  after 
his  death.' 

Higgs  looked  at  the  check.  Placing  it  in  his  pocket,  he 
took  up  the  pen  and  scrawled  his  name  and  place  of  abode 
beneath  that  of  Wilkins. 

1  That  will  do,'  said  Bolton.  He  then  folded  up  the  will, 
placed  it  in  the  safe,  which  he  locked,  and  laid  the  key  on 
the  table. 

'  That 's  done,'  said  he.  '  No  doubt  the  old  gentleman  feels 
easier,  now  that  his  property  is  cared  for.' 

'  I  suppose  he  does ;  he  ought  to,'  replied  Higgs.  '  Every 
body  has  n't  such  kind  friends.  What  a  pity  !  It  would 
save  them  so  much  trouble ! ' 

Bolton  laughed,  and  said :  '  Mr.  Higgs,  you  know  the  risk 
of  this  matter.  We  sink  or  swim  together.  You  've  got 
part  of  your  pay.  If  we  succeed,  you  '11  get  the  rest ;  and 
we  must  succeed,  if  you  perform  your  part  well,  and  keep 
your  own  counsel.  If  you  do  n't,  look  out !  —  that 's  all.' 

'  I  will,'  said  Higgs,  quietly.  '  If  I  intend  to  betray  you, 
I  '11  murder  you  first ;  so  you  may  be  certain  that  your 
secret 's  safe,  unless  you  should  happen  to  wake  up  some 
pleasant  morning,  and  find  your  throat  cut.' 

Higgs  did  not  alter  his  voice  as  he  spoke.  Its  tone  was  even 
particularly  soft ;  but  the  attorney  drew  back  as  if  he  had 
encountered  a  snake ;  for  there  was  that  in  the  sharp  gray 
eye,  as  it  looked  in  his  own,  and  in  the  sudden  but  moment 


78  THE    ATTORNEY. 

ary  change  of  feature,  which  drove  the  blood  to  his  heart 
Before  he  recovered  himself,  Higgs  got  up,  and  taking  his 
hat,  said :  '  I  must  be  off  now.  When  you  want  me,  you 
can  let  me  know,  and  tell  me  beforehand  what 's  to  be  done. 
Good-night.' 

No  sooner  was  he  gone,  than  Bolton  turned  to  Wilkins 
arid  said,  '  Do  you  know  this  man  well  ?  We  are  both  in 
his  power ;  and  if  he  should  prove  false,  he  may  put  us  where 
neither  of  us  would  care  to  go.' 

*  I  have  known  him  for  years.     I  Ve  explained  all  to  him, 
thoroughly.   He  knows  the  risk,'  was  the  reply ;  '  and  if  you 
perform  your  part  as  well  as  he  '11  do  his,  all  will  end  as  you 
wish  it.' 

'  If  it  had  n't  been  for  that  last  look  of  his,'  said  Bolton, 
'I  should  have  doubted  it.  D —  n  it!  I  didn't  half  like 
the  expression  of  his  eye  when  he  talked  so  pleasantly  of 
1  cutting  my  throat.'  Did  you  notice  that  ? ' 

'  Do  n't  tempt  him  then,  that 's  all,'  said  Wilkins. 

The  attorney  paced  the  office  in  deep  thought ;  sometimes 
stopping  short  and  looking  in  the  fire,  and  then  walking  on 
with  a  hurried,  irregular  step.  At  last  he  paused. 

*  That  girl  you  were  speaking  of,'  said  he,  addressing  Wil 
kins  ;  '  what  have  you  done  with  her  ? ' 

Wilkins  was  crouching,  rather  than  sitting  in  his  chair, 
with  his  hat  drawn  over  his  eyes,  and  his  knees  gathered  up 
as  if  for  a  spring.  He  did  not  reply  until  his  companion 
repeated  the  question. 

4  She  's  gone?  he  said  at  last. 

1  Left  you ! '  exclaimed  Bolton  ;  *  you  do  n't  mean  eloped  ? ' 

*  She  's  gone,'  replied  Wilkins,  '  for  good,  I  suspect.     She 
went  last  night  at  ten,  and  I  have  n't  seen  her  since.' 

*  Has  she  any  relatives,  or  any  female  friend,  to  whom  she 
might  go  at  that  hour  ? ' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  79 


*  Where  do  you  suppose  she  went  to  ?  ' 

*  God  only  knows  !  '  replied  Wilkins  ;  '/  do  n't.' 

1  There  was  a  cause,  I  suppose  ?  '  said  Bolton,  looking  him 
full  in  the  face.  '  What  was  it  ?  ' 

4  Well,'  said  Wilkins,  '  I  'Jl  tell  you.  When  I  went  home, 
I  was  full  of  what  we  had  talked  of.  I  was  half  mad  ;  and 
when  I  got  to  the  house,  I  cursed  her,  and  did  all  that  I 
could  to  get  her  up  to  what  we  wanted.' 

'Well?' 

'And  so,  when  I  found  that  nothing  else  would  do,  I  struck 
her  —  down  to  the  very  floor.  There  !  '  said  he,  starting  from 
his  chair,  and  dashing  his  hand  across  his  face,  '  that  's  all  ! 
She  could  n't  stand  that,  and  she  went.  And  now,'  con 
tinued  he,  beating  his  hand  against  his  forehead,  '  it  sticks 
here  —  here  !  This  d  -  d  head  of  mine  is  filled  with  all 
sorts  of  strange  fancies  and  images  of  her.  Do  what  I  will, 
there  they  stick.  I  have  been  drinking,  too,  but  I  can't  drink 
them  away.  I  went  to  the  widow's,  but  I  could  n't  make  up 
my  mind  to  go  in  ;  and  I  was  afraid  to  return  to  my  own 
home  ;  for  it  seemed  no  longer  a  home  without  her  :  so  I 
have  wandered  the  streets  since  morning.  I  have  eaten 
nothing,  and  am  weary  and  foot-sore.' 

As  he  spoke,  the  wretched  man  placed  his  arms  on  the 
table,  and  leaned  his  head  heavily  upon  them.  But  in  a 
moment,  he  started  up  and  stood  erect  in  front  of  the  lawyer. 
'  Bolton,'  said  he,  '  you  must  carry  this  matter  through  with 
out  flinching  :  you  must,  by  G  —  d  !  —  for  you  have  made  me 
what  I  am.  I  was  an  honest  man  till  I  fell  in  with  you  ;  and 
you  know  what  came  then.' 

'  What  ?  '  demanded  the  attorney,  sharply. 

'  What  comes  to  every  man  that  falls  into  your  clutches,' 
fiaid  he,  speaking  thick  and  fast.  '  I  had  money  —  that  went  ; 


80  THE    ATTORNEY. 

I  had  business  —  that  went ;  I  had  friends,  a  fair  name,  bright 
hopes  and  prospects  —  and  they  went!  All — every  one  of 
them ;  nothing  left ;  not  one  single  soul !  And  you?  said 
he,  shaking  his  clenched  fist  in  the  lawyer's  face,  '  you  were 
the  cursed,  cringing,  skulking  thief  that  stole  them  away, 
one  by  one,  until  I  became  what  I  am  !  You  said  last  night, 
you  'd  have  nothing  to  do  with  a  murder,'  exclaimed  he,  with 
a  wild,  fierce  laugh,  that  made  the  room  ring.  •  I  do  n't 
know  that.  You  might  be  mistaken  there.  Do  you  know,* 
said  he,  suddenly  sinking  his  voice,  and  going  up  to  the 
attorney,  and  leaning  his  elbow  on  his  shoulder,  while  he 
looked  over  in  his  face,  '  do  you  know  I  often  wonder  that  I 
do  n't  cut  your  throat  at  once,  and  have  done  with  it  ?  I 
swear  I  do  !  It  must  come  to  that  at  last.' 

'  You  'd  be  a  fool  for  your  pains,'  said  Bolton,  with  an  ap 
pearance  of  indifference  which  he  was  far  from  feeling.  *  If 
I  got  you  into  difficulties,  I  'm  the  only  man  who  can  get 
you  out  of  them,  and  you  know  it.  But  you  are  excited 
to-night.  Come  here  some  other  time,  and  we  '11  talk  over 
your  matters.  You  are  worn  out  now.' 

•*  So  I  am,'  said  Wilkins,  whose  momentary  passion  was 
over.  *  Hand  me  that  pitcher.' 

The  attorney  complied,  and  Wilkins  raised  it  to  his  lips, 
and  took  a  long  draught. 

*  This  law  plays  the  devil  with  one's  nerves.  I  '11  talk  the 
matter  over  to-morrow.  I  scarcely  slept  last  night ;  and 
to-day  every  thing  has  been  like  a  dream.  I  wonder  if  I  '11 
sleep  to-night.  I'll  try,  any  how.  Good-night.'  As  he 
spoke,  he  took  his  hat,  and  before  the  attorney  was  aware 
of  his  intention,  had  quitted  the  room. 

Bolkm  listened,  as  his  heavy  tread  echoed  through  the 
silent  building ;  but  long  after  Wilkins  had  left  him  and  had 
sought  his  guilty  home,  did  the  lawyer  walk  up  and  down 


THE    ATTORNEY.  SI 

that  room.  The  fire  went  out;  one  candle  burnt  to  the 
socket,  and  at  last  flickered  out ;  but  he  did  not  notice  it. 
It  was  not  until  a  neighboring  clock  struck  the  hour  of 
three,  with  a  tone  so  solemn  and  clear  that  it  seemed  at  his 
very  elbow,  that  he  was  aware  it  was  far  in  the  night.  Extin 
guishing  the  remaining  light,  he  locked  his  office  and  sought 
bis  own  abode. 


THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

As  Wilkins  went  through  the  streets,  there  was  that  busy 
within  him  which  made  him  shun  the  face  of  man.  For  in 
his  heart  and  soul  there  was  a  depth  of  misery,  mingled  with 
hate,  fear,  and  fury,  that  beggared  all  that  he  had  ever  felt 
before.  Yet  his  course  was  onward.  He  would  not  pause  ; 
he  would  not  think.  He  was  like  the  stricken  beast  that 
dashes  madly  on,  tracking  its  path  with  its  own  blood,  but 
bearing  the  arrow  in  its  side.  When  he  left  the  attorney's 
office,  although  it  was  late  at  night,  and  but  few  were  stir 
ring,  he  shrank  from  the  frequented  streets.  He  sometimes 
walked  rapidly,  and  sometimes  he  ran.  At  one  time  a  soli 
tary  man  was  coming  toward  him,  and  Wilkins  slunk  into  a 
dark  alley  to  avoid  him.  At  another  time  he  stopped,  and 
looked  listlessly  at  the  black  sky ;  and  then  went  on  mutter 
ing  and  talking  to  himself,  and  uttering  curses  low  and  deep, 
which  sent  a  chill  to  the  heart  of  the  few  who  happened  to 
pass,  and  made  them  quicken  their  steps  until  they  were  far 
away  from  so  ill-omened  a  neighbor. 

Yet  with  all  his  wretchedness  there  was  no  swerving  from 
his  course  ;  no  shrinking  from  his  purpose.  With  a  desolate 
heart ;  with  a  fearful  consciousness  of  crime ;  with  the  awful 
conviction  that  GOD  himself  had  raised  his  hand  against  him, 
and  had  written  his  malediction  upon  him  in  characters  which 
every  man  could  read ;  with  a  love  for  his  wife  which  pov 
erty  and  suffering  for  a  time  had  stifled,  but  which,  now 
kindling  into  fresh  existence,  and,  together  with  remorse, 
acting  upon  a  disposition  fierce,  wayward,  and  yet  irresolute, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  83 

had  driven  him  half  mad ;  he  still  breasted  his  way  on, 
cursing  and  cursed ;  wretched  in  his  own  heart,  and  a  source 
of  wretchedness  to  others. 

Skulking  beneath  the  black  shadow  of  the  houses,  and 
shunning  the  eye  of  his  fellow-men,  as  if  his  own  evil  pur 
poses  gave  them  the  mastery  over  him,  that  guilty  man  pur 
sued  his  course,  stealing  through  those  streets  which  were 
the  most  gloomy,  avoiding  the  thronged  thoroughfares  when 
he  could,  and  dashing  hastily  across  them  when  he  could 
not ;  until,  at  last,  he  found  himself  in  front  of  his  own  home. 
All  was  dark.  He  paused,  and  looked  up  at  the  window, 
where  he  was  in  the  habit  of  seeing  his  wife  watching  for 
his  arrival.  But  no  one  was  there.  Muttering  something 
between  his  teeth,  he  strode  through  the  narrow  entry  and 
tried  the  door.  It  was  locked,  and  resisted  his  efforts. 
Thrusting  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  he  drew  from  it  a  key,  un 
locked  the  door,  and  with  the  air  of  one  who  expected  and  was 
resolved  to  meet  something  disagreeable,  flung  it  open  until 
it  struck  the  wall,  and  rattled  on  the  hinges.  The  room  was 
dark,  with  the  exception  of  the  light  which  struggled  in  from 
the  dim  lamps  in  the  street.  Slamming  the  door  behind  him, 
he  groped  his  way  to  a  cupboard,  and  taking  a  flint  and  steel, 
succeeded  in  striking  a  light.  Holding  it  high  above  his 
head,  he  looked  wistfully  about,  examining  every  part  of  the 
room,  and  pausing  at  every  sound.  All,  however,  bore  the 
mark  of  desertion.  The  fire-place  was  filled  with  ashes,  and 
one  or  two  half-burnt  brands  of  wood  were  lying  on  the  hearth  ; 
and  the  room  seemed  very  cheerless,  and  as  cold  and  damp 
as  a  church-vault. 

So  she  was  gone,  and  there  was  no  chance  of  her  return ! 
He  had  hitherto  buoyed  himself  up  with  a  faint  and  half- 
acknowledged  hope  that  she  would  come  back,  and  would 
humbly  beg  to  be  forgiven.  He  had  expected  a  severe  strug- 


84  THE    ATTORNEY 

gle ;  that  when  they  parted,  it  would  be  amid  tears,  suppli 
cations,  and  protestations  on  her  part ;  and  that  he  would 
stand  before  her  in  the  light  of  a  husband  whom  deep  wrong 
had  rendered  stern  and  inflexible.  For  this  he  was  prepared. 
He  had  expected  to  choose  his  own  time  for  the  consumma 
tion  of  his  purpose.  She  had  borne  so  much,  so  long,  and 
so  patiently,  that  he  thought  there  was  no  limit  to  her  endu 
rance.  But  he  had  overtasked  her  at  last.  She  had  deserted 
one  who  had  broken  his  vow  to  love  and  protect  her,  and 
had  thrown  herself  upon  the  charity  of  a  world  —  the  poor 
and  wretched  only  know  how  '  cold  and  heartless.'  He 
searched,  in  hopes  of  finding  something  to  tell  where  she 
was ;  but  there  was  nothing  of  the  kind.  Every  thing  was 
undisturbed  as  he  had  left  it ;  and  all  very  quiet  and  very 
sad !  And  there  was  something  so  solemn  yet  reproachful 
in  the  dead  silence,  that  he  experienced  a  strange  sensation 
of  fear,  and  scarcely  dared  to  remain  alone  in  that  melancholy 
room.  He  opened  the  closet,  looked  under  the  bed,  behind 
the  chairs;  and  yet  —  he  could  not  tell  why  —  he  was 
strangely  restless.  His  foot  struck  against  something  on  the 
floor,  and  he  picked  it  up.  It  was  a  small  needle-case  which 
he  had  given  to  his  wife  a  long  time  previously.  There  was 
nothing  either  curious  or  uncommon  about  it,  and  he  had 
often  seen  it ;  but  he  held  to  the  light,  and  examined  it 
again  and  again,  and  then  laid  it  gently  on  the  table,  as  if 
he  feared  the  slightest  touch  might  break  it.  He  felt  an  un 
usual  thickness  gathering  in  his  throat.  Walking  across  the 
room,  he  flung  himself  on  a  chair,  and  folding  his  arms, 
attempted  to  whistle ;  but  the  same  feeling  of  suffocation 
rose  in  his  throat  and  stopped  him.  Muttering  a  curse  upon 
himself,  he-sprang  up,  and  pulling  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  paced 
rapidly  up  and  down  the  room.  Once  or  twice  he  paused, 
as  he  heard  a  female  voice.  But  it  was  only  that  of  some 


THE    ATTORNEY.  85 

person  in  the  street ;  and  shaking  his  head,  he  continued  his 
walk.  At  length  he  again  went  to  the  cupboard  and  opened 
it.  A  few  shillings  and  some  copper  coins  were  lying  on  the 
lower  shelf. 

'  She  has  not  even  taken  that ! '  muttered  he  ;  *  gone  with 
out  a  cent  to  keep  her  from  starving  !     God  !  —  what  will 

she  do!     She^must  die,  or .'     As  the  thought  of  her, 

driven  by  hunger  and  distress  to  something  worse,  flashed 
across  his  mind,  his  eyes  glared  ;  he  gasped  for  breath,  and 
his  limbs  shook  so  that  he  could  scarcely  support  himself. 
'It  must  not  be  !  It  shall  not !  No,  no  !  —  Lucy  driven  to 
that !  No,  no  !  it  would  make  me  mad  !  I  '11  look  for  her. 
Ha  !  what 's  this  ?  —  a  tear  !  Poh  !  this  is  mere  weakness. 
Let  her  go  ;  yes,  let  her  !  It 's  what  I  want,  and  will  save 
me  trouble  in  what  I  Ve  got  to  do.' 

Mastering  the  better  impulses  which  were  unnerving  him, 
he  seated  himself,  and  leaning  his  head  on  the  table,  began 
to  reflect  on  his  former  schemes  —  in  what  manner  he 
might  best  carry  them  out.  It  was  long  before  he  could 
sufficiently  command  his  feelings  eten  to  think.  His  mind 
was  filled  with  strong  misgivings ;  for  although  his  wife  had 
hitherto  been  rather  his  slave  than  companion,  yet  the  reso 
lution  displayed  by  her  on  the  preceding  night  convinced 
him  that  she  would  not  sit  silently  under  an  attack  against 
her  fame.  Jack  Phillips,  too,  whose  name  he  intended  to 
link  in  guilt  with  hers,  he  feared.  He  had  once  been  his 
friend,  and  professed  to  be  so  still,  and  he  knew  him  to  be 
bold  and  resolute.  He  felt  sure  that  he  would  resist  the 
charge  which  was  to  be  made  against  him  to  the  last,  and 
would  hurl  back  upon  him  accusations  which  he  drea  v  -d  to 
meet.  No  alternative,  however,  presented  itself ;  for  there 
was  no  other  whom  he  could  accuse  with  a  suffic;ent  col- 


86  THE    ATTORNEY. 

oring  of  truth  to  justify  even  suspicion.     But  how  to  com 
mence  ! 

The  more  he  reflected,  the  more  difficult  it  seemed.  He 
had  just  resolved  that  the  next  time  he  met  Phillips  he 
would  to  his  face  accuse  him  of  the  seduction  of  his  wife, 
and  would  meet  all  the  angry  remonstrances,  which  he  knew 
would  ensue,  with  the  air  of  one  deeply  wronged,  but  who 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  look  to  the  laws  of  the  land  for 
redress  ;  and  then  to  trust  to  the  well-tried  sagacity  of  Bolton 
to  pilot  him  through  the  difficulties  which  surrounded  him. 
Scarcely  was  his  resolution  formed,  when  there  was  a  sharp 
knock  at  the  door.  '  It  might  be  Lucy  ! '  His  face  bright 
ened,  and  he  said  :  '  Come  in  !' 

The  door  opened,  and  in  walked  a  young  man  of  about 
four-and-twenty.  If  ever  a  face  bore  the  stamp  of  frank 
and  open  honesty,  his  did  ;  and  as  he  entered  the  room  and 
spoke  to  Wilkins,  his  voice  was  full  of  that  honest  gladness 
which  the  heart  instinctively  springs  forward  to  meet,  even 
in  a  stranger. 

'  No  fire,  and  all  dark  ! '  said  he  after  his  first  salutation. 
*  Where  is  your  wife  ? ' 

Wilkins  attempted  to  look  him  in  the  face,  but  his  eye 
quailed,  and  he  made  no  answer. 

'Are  you  deaf,  George  ? '  asked  the  other  ;  '  where  is  your 
wife?' 

1  No,  I  ain't  deaf,'  said  Wilkins,  sullenly.  *  She's  out.  I 
suppose  you  can  sec  that,  can't  you  V 

'  I'm  not  blind,'  said  the  young  man,  looking  steadily  at 
Wilkins,  but  without  the  slightest  appearance  of  anger  at 
his  harsh  language.  There  was  a  pause. 

At  last  Wilkins  said  in  a  low  tone  :  '  You  said  you  were 
not  blind,  Jack  Phillips.'  He  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  face  of 


THE    ATTORNEY.  87 

the  young  man  with  the  cowed  yet  dogged  stare  of  one  who 
has  resolved  that  he  would  look  his  opponent  down.     Phil 
lips  quietly  answered : 
'  I  did  say  so.' 

*  Nor  am  /.' 

*  What  do  you  mean  ?     Speak  out ! '  said  Phillips,  with 
more  impatience  than  he  had  hitherto  shown. 

Wilkins  turned  deadly  pale,  and  rose  to  his  feet.  He  tot 
tered  as  he  did  so,  and  his  fingers  clutched  convulsively.  He 
walked  straight  to  the  door,  locked  it,  put  the  key  in  his 
pocket,  went  back  to  the  table,  up  to  Phillips,  and  stood  in 
front  of  him,  face  to  face.  The  young  man  watched  him 
without  a  word ;  and  when  he  had  locked  the  door,  and 
stood  thus  menacingly  before  him,  neither  muscle  nor  feature 
evinced  the  slightest  emotion. 

Wilkins  opened  his  vest,  and  with  his  fore-finger  touched 
the  handle  of  his  dirk,  and  then  buttoned  his  vest  to  the 
throat. 

'  Did  you  see  that  ? '  said  he,  watching  the  effect  of  the 
action  upon  his  visitor. 

'I  did,' replied  Phillips. 

4  Well;  what  answer  have  you  to  make  to  it  V 

1  This ! '  said  Phillips,  for  the  first  time  warming  into 
anger :  '  I  deal  not  with  such  cut-throat  weapons  as  that ; 
nor  do  I  know  what  the  devil  you  would  be  at  to  night ;  but 
here's  my  answer.'  He  held  before  him  a  fist  which 
equalled  in  size  the  head  of  a  small  child  :  'And  by  Heaven ! 
if  I  see  your  fingers  approaching  that  dirk  again,  I  '11  strangle 
you  on  the  spot!  I  can  do  it — you  know  it;  and  by  G  — d 
I  will !  That's  my  answer ! ' 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  nearer  to  Wilkins,  to  be  ready  to 
execute  his  purpose  ;  but  after  eyeing  him  for  a  moment,  he 
said: 


88  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1 1  did  n't  come  here  to  quarrel.  It 's  a  late  hour,  I  know ; 
but  I  knew  you'd  be  up,  and  I  wanted  to  see  you  about  a 
matter  of  some  consequence  :  I  Ve  been  here  later  than  this 
before  now.' 

'I  know  you  have,'  said  Wilkins  ;  'I  know  that.  I'm 
glad  to  see  some  honesty  left ;  you  admit  that.  He  admits 
that !  Ha  !  ha ! '  He  laughed  so  savagely  that  Phillips 
looked  at  him,  and  began  to  debate  within  himself  the  pro 
priety  of  strangling  him  at  once ;  but  seeing  no  immediate 
danger,  he  deferred  it  for  the  present,  and  answered : 

1  Of  course  I  do.     Why  not?' 

'  Oh  !  no  reason  in  the  world — none  at  all ;  especially  if 
it's  true.  Go  on  — go  on  ;  do  go  on ! ' 

*  What  ails  you  ? '  exclaimed  Phillips,  surveying  him  from 
head  to  foot.     *  You  seem  out  of  your  senses.     Are  you 
drunk,  or  mad,  or  what  ? ' 

*  What   ails  me  ? '  exclaimed  Wilkins  fiercely,  and  gra 
dually  working  himself  up  to  a  sufficient  pitch  of  anger  to 
enable  him  boldly  to  make  his  intended  charge  :  '  Perhaps 
you  don't  know,  and  perhaps  you  would  like  me  to  tell  you.' 

1  Yes,  I  would.' 

'Well,  then,  said  he,  '  Lucy,  my  wife — I  thought  her  all 
that  she  should  be.  I  was  a  cursed  blind  fool  —  had  no  mis 
givings.  I  let  her  have  her  own  way ;  was  away  much  of 
the  day,  and  never  suspected  any  thing  amiss  until  a  friend 
gave  me  a  hint.' 

'  Who  was  that  friend  ? '  demanded  Phillips,  in  a  clear, 
calm  voice. 

Wilkins  hesitated,  and  at  length  refused  to  give  the  name. 

*  Well  —  go  on,'  said  Phillips,  in  the  same  cold  tone. 
Wilkins  went  on.     'I  would  n't  believe  it  at  first,  but  it 

was  made  too  clear,  and  I  found  him  out  too.' 
'  Who 's  the  man  ? '  demanded  Phillips,  sternly. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  89 

Wilkins  was  silent ;  but  he  set  his  teeth,  and  his  eyes 
glowed  as  he  fixed  them  on  the  face  of  his  questioner. 

'  Who 's  the  man  ? '  repeated  Phillips. 

'You  —  you  —  YOU!'  screamed  Wilkins,  springing  for 
ward  and  striking  him  a  violent  blow  at  each  word.  *  You 
are  the  man  ! ' 

Phillips  grasped  him  by  the  wrists,  and  pinioning  them 
with  a  strength  which  he  could  not  resist,  held  him  off. 

*  I  would  half  murder  you  for  that,  but  that  I  think  you 
are  mad  or  drunk.     There's  not  one  word  of  truth  in  what 
you  have  said.     It 's  a  lie  from  beginning  to  end ;  and  you 
know  it ! '   He  flung  him  from  him  as  if  he  had  been  a  child. 

Wilkins  sprang  up  and  clenched  his  fists.  His  dark,  sal 
low  complexion  grew  almost  black,  and  his  eye  wandered 
over  the  person  of  his  opponent  with  a  malignity  of  purpose 
which  would  have  made  one  less  courageous  tremble, 

*  Do  n't  strike  me  again  ! '  exclaimed  Phillips,  in  a  quick, 
stern  tone  ;  *  do  n't  do  it ;  or  I  '11  crush  every  bone  in  your 
body ! ' 

For  a  moment  the  two  stood  on  the  eve  of  collision  ;  but 
Wilkins  knew  too  well  the  strength  of  the  man  he  had  to 
deal  with ;  and  with  an  attempt  at  moderation  he  said  : 

'  Now  I  've  told  you  who  the  man  is,  I  suppose  you 'd  like 
me  to  tell  you  where  she  went  to  when  she  cleared  out,  and 
why  she  went  ? ' 

*  You  need  n't  tell  me  that,'  said  Phillips.     '  If  that  is  n't 
a  lie  too,  I  know  the  reason.     I  wonder  that  she  didn't  do 
it  before  ;  for  if  ever  man  gave  woman  cause  to  hate  and 
curse  him,  you  gave  it  to  that  poor  girl.   If  she  left  you  last 
night,  it  was  because  you  had  filled  the  cup  of  her  bitterness 
to  the  brim,  and  treated  her  as  man  never  treated  woman. 
What  you  did,  God  only  knows.     You  must  have  goaded 
her  almost  to  madness.    Perhaps,  perhaps,'  said  he,  drawing 


90  THE    ATTORNEY. 

in  his  breath  and  clenching  his  fist,  while  with  the  other 
hand  he  grasped  Wilkins  by  the  arm,  '  perhaps  you  struck 
her!' 

'  No,  I  did  not,'  said  Wilkins,  shrinking  from  the  angry 
eye  that  encountered  his,  and  feeling  as  powerless  as  a  child 
in  the  iron  grasp  of  his  questioner. 

*  I  'm  glad  of  that.  Now  give  me  the  key  of  that  door. 

I'll  not  be  in  the  same  room  with  such  a  d d  scoundrel 

as  you  are.' 

Without  the  slightest  opposition,  or  a  single  word  in  reply, 
Wilkins  drew  the  key  from  his  pocket  and  gave  it  to  him, 
Phillips  paused  as  he  took  it,  as  if  about  to  say  something ; 
but,  apparently  altering  his  mind,  unlocked  the  door  and 
went  out. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  the  wretched  man  who  remained 
went  to  the  door  and  turned  the  key.  He  then  closed  the 
window-shutters,  and  flung  himself  listlessly  on  a  chair, 
twisting  his  fingers  together.  All  trace  of  the  passion 
which  but  a  moment  before  had  flashed  in  every  feature  was 
gone,  and  he  groaned  aloud  in  the  very  bitterness  of  his  soul. 

4  That  d d  attorney ! '  said  he,  shaking  his  hand  menac 
ingly,  as  if  the  object  of  bis  hatred  were  before  him  ;  *  he 
led  me  on  ;  he  made  me  what  I  am  ;  and  I  '11  pay  him  off 
some  day  !'  For  some  time  he  sat  brooding  over  a  scheme 
of  revenge;  then  his  mind  wandered  on  until  he  thought  of  the 
main  object  of  all  his  plans.  He  fancied  himself  successful, 
and  surrounded  by  wealth.  He  thought  of  his  wife,  seated 
at  his  side,  with  her  soft  eyes  looking  fondly  in  his  own,  and 
of  her  joyful  voice !  He  started  up  and  wrung  his  hands. 
'  If  he  succeeded,  his  wife  must  be  another  than  her! '  Oh  I 
the  bitter  and  constant  agony  of  crime ! 


THE    ATTORNEY.  01 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

LATE  on  the  night  that  Lucy  had  separated  from  her  hus 
band,  an  old  gentleman,  who  was  a  physician,  came  out  of  a 
large  house  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city,  where  he  had  been 
lingering  at  the  bedside  of  a  patient.  The  night  was  pitchy 
dark,  and  there  was  no  light  in  the  street  except  what 
came  from  a  solitary  lamp,  the  result  of  the  private  en 
terprise  of  an  apothecary,  which  gleamed  like  a  green  planet 
at  the  far  end  of  the  street.  The  old  gentleman  felt  his 
way  down  the  steps  until  he  came  to  the  last  one,  when 
he  very  deliberately  fell  over  some  one  who  was  lying  there, 
apparently  asleep,  and  both  rolled  on  the  sidewalk  together. 
The  person  thus  disturbed  remained  perfectly  motionless, 
littering  no  sound  nor  cry.  The  old  gentleman,  however, 
did  not  take  matters  so  quietly,  and  in  the  first  burst  of  his 
surprise  let  off  a  volley  of  testy  exclamations :  but  being 
naturally  good-tempered,  and  withal  hale  and  hearty,  and 
brisk  for  his  years,  he  picked  himself  up  and  trotted  merrily 
on,  wondering  what  could  have  induced  any  one  to  sleep  on 
a  stone  step  ;  it  was  very  inconvenient,  and  on  a  dark  night 
like  this  not  a  little  dangerous.  '  Suppose  I  had  broken  my 
neck  'I '  thought  he ;  'or  suppose  I  had  broken  his  ? '  He 
stopped,  for  it  just  then  occurred  to  him  that  something  of 
the  kind  had  happened ;  the  sleeper  had  not  stirred  after 
the  accident,  nor  even  spoken.  As  this  idea  presented  itself, 
he  paused  in  front  of  the  green  lamp  before  mentioned,  to 
make  up  his  mind.  -This  was  soon  done,  and  he  trotted 
back  to  the  person,  who  lay  just  as  he  had  left  him.  Tak- 


02  THE    ATTORNEY. 

ing  him  by  the  arm,  he  shook  it  smartly.  *  Wake  up,  my 
good  fellow ! '  said  he.  There  was  no  motion  nor  reply, 
He  raised  the  arm,  and  it  fell  back  lead-like  and  heavy,  like 
that  of  a  corpse. 

4  Drunk  ! '  said  he,  *  and  a  woman  too !  Good  God  !  what 
will  they  come  to ! '  As  he  spoke,  he  slowly  passed  his 
fingers  over  her  features,  which  were  as  cold  as  ice ;  held  the 
back  of  his  hand  to  her  mouth,  then  took  her  by  the  wrist 
and  felt  her  pulse. 

'  Dead !  God  of  heaven  grant  that  I  have  not  killed 
her ! '  exclaimed  he  earnestly,  with  his  fingers  still  on  her 
wrist,  and  scarcely  breathing,  lest  any  sign  of  animation 
should  escape  his  notice.  A  pulsation,  so  faint  and  fluttering 
that  it  would  have  been  overlooked  by  one  less  intently  anx 
ious,  was  felt  beneath  his  fingers.  Springing  up  the  steps, 
two  at  a  time,  he  pulled  the  bell  until  the  house  echoed ; 
then  running  down,  he  lifted  the  object  of  his  solicitude  in 
his  arms,  and  reached  the  door  just  as  a  servant  from  the 
inside  exclaimed : 

'  Who's  there?  and  what  do  you  want?  Speak  quick  ! 
You  'd  better,  or  I  '11  fire  ! '  And  something  which  looked 
more  like  a  poker  than  any  kind  of  fire-arm  was  protruded 
from  behind  the  side-light. 

'  If  you  do  n't  open  the  door,  I  '11  give  you  something  to 
fire  for,'  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  on  the  outside. 

Apparently  the  voice  of  the  speaker  was  recognized,  for 
the  next  moment  the  door  opened,  and  a  red-eared  servant, 
with  a  considerable  abatement  in  the  ferocity  of  his  tone, 
said  :  '  Oh  !  Doctor  Thurston.  It's  you,  is  it,  Sir  ? ' 

'To  be  sure  it  is.     Hold  the  light  here  —  quick  !' 

The  servant,  however,  had  heard  strange  stories  about  how 
doctors  amused  themselves  in  the  night-time ;  how  they 
stole  into  grave-yards  and  carried  off  dead  people  in  their 


THE    ATTORNEY.  93 

shrouds ;  how  coffins  which  ought  to  have  been  tenanted 
were  found  empty ;  how  a  black  man  who  had  set  fire  to  a 
house  and  roasted  a  blind  lady,  and  was  hanged  for  it, 
was  buried  in  Potter's-Field,  and  nothing  was  found  when 
they  went  to  look  for  him  afterward  except  a  foot  with  a 
wart  on  it.  With  these  and  many  other  facts  of  the  same 
kind  floating  through  his  mind,  the  servant  became  strongly 
impressed  with  the  belief  that  the  elderly  gentleman  before 
him  had  stolen  a  corpse,  and  had  brought  it  there  in  his  arms 
for  dissection ;  and  having  no  great  predilection  for  the  com 
pany  of  dead  people,  he  sprang  across  the  entry  with  an 
agility  quite  singular  in  one  usually  remarkable  for  the  great 
perseverance  with  which  he  was  slow  in  every  thing. 

'  Bring  back  the  candle,  you  fool,  will  you  ? '  said  the 
Doctor,  staggering  under  his  burden,  and  finally  depositing 
it  in  a  chair.  '  I'm  afraid  she's  dead.' 

'  Of  course  she  is.  I  know  'd  it  from  the  fust,  Sir,'  said 
the  servant,  extending  the  light  as  near  to,  and  his  body  as 
far  from,  the  object  of  his  fears  as  a  man  exactly  one  inch 
over  five  feet  conveniently  could.  '  I  hope  it  was  n't  a  small 
pox  she  died  of,  Sir ;  I  never  had  it  myself,  and  I  've  seven 
young  'uns  at  home  as  has  never  been  'noculated.' 

The  Doctor  stared  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  not  being 
aware  of  the  train  of  ideas  which  were  passing  through  his 
head,  told  him  to  hold  his  tongue,  and  bring  the  light  so 
that  he  could  see  what  was  the  matter  with  the  woman. 
'  There,  that  '11  do.  Let  it  shine  in  her  face.  How  beautiful 
she  is  !  — but  how  thin  !  Bring  some  wine  ;  then  wake  up 
the  cook,  and  let  her  make  something  warm,  and  let  a  fire 
be  kindled  in  one  of  the  bed-rooms.  Be  quick  !  How 
lucky  that  I  stopped !  She  would  have  been  dead  in  an 
hour.' 

A  ray  of  light  gradually  found  its  way  into  the  mind  of 


94  THE    ATTORNEY. 

the  slow  servant,  like  a  sunbeam  through  a  thick  fog  or  a 
stray  ray  into  a  cave  of  bats,  and  he  began  to  mutter  some 
thing  about  the  streets  being  '  good  enough  for  the  likes 
o'  her ;  he  guessed  she  was  used  to  it ;  and  if  she  had  'a 
died,  he  supposed  she  was  n't  the  fust  that  did  so ;  and  he 
didn't  see  why  the  kitchen  wasn't  warm  enough.  When 
he  was  sick,  he  'd  never  had  a  bed-room  ;  nor  little  Tommy 
nuther,  although  he  'd  had  the  measles  awful.' 

Catching  the  Doctor's  eye  in  the  midst  of  these  under- 
toned  mutterings,  he  put  the  light  on  a  chair,  and  paced  off 
with  as  much  exactitude  as  if  a  duel  was  to  be  fought  in 
the  entry,  and  he  was  appointed  to  measure  the  distance. 

Notwithstanding  the  slowness  of  the  servant  and  the  late 
ness  of  the  night,  but  a  short  time  had  elapsed  before  the 
Doctor's  instructions  had  been  obeyed.  When  Lucy  opened 
her  eyes,  (for  it  was  she,)  it  was  broad  daylight ;  and  she 
found  herself  in  a  large  bed-room  handsomely  furnished, 
with  an  old  gentleman  sitting  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  reading 
a  newspaper,  and  a  young  girl,  scarcely  older  than  herself, 
standing  at  the  side  of  it,  bathing  her  forehead. 

1  How  do  you  fee],  my  good  girl  ? '  said  the  old  man,  put 
ting  down  his  paper  and  taking  her  hand  ;  '  are  you  better  ? ' 

Lucy  was  bewildered  at  all  that  she  saw :  the  two 
strangers ;  the  rich  and  costly  furniture ;  every  thing  so  differ 
ent  from  what  she  had  been  accustomed  to.  She  closed  her 
eyes,  and  endeavored  to  collect  her  thoughts.  Like  one  who 
has  been  stunned,  her  recollection  of  the  past  was  confused 
and  indistinct.  Strange  figures,  wild,  distorted,  and  fanciful, 
flitted  through  her  mind,  like  the  fantastic  forms  in  a  dream. 
But  one  by  one,  the  occurrences  of  the  preceding  night  re 
curred  to  her  more  and  more  vividly,  until  they  became  fear 
fully  distinct.  She  attempted  to  answer  the  inquiries  of  tho 
physician,  but  she  could  not ;  and  her  head  sank  back  on 
the  pillow. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  05 


*  God  bless  me !  poor  thing ! '  exclaimed  the  old  gentle 
man  ;  *  completely  exhausted  ! '  Hurrying  across  the  room, 
he  brought  a  glass  containing  something,  which  he  placed 
to  her  lips  :  '  There,  drink  that ;  do  n't  be  afraid  of  it ; 
it  '11  do  you  good.  Miss  Crawford,'  said  he,  turning  to  the 
young  lady  who  sat  near  the  bed,  '  you  doubtless  think 
it  strange,  very  strange,  that  I  should  thus  unceremoniously 
bring  this  girl  into  your  house ;  no  doubt  you  do,  but  you 
see  it  Avas  necessary,  absolutely  :  she  would  have  died  before 
morning.  She  '11  do  very  well  now  ;  so  I  '11  just  step  down 
—  stairs  and  see  what  you  've  got  for  breakfast.' 

For  a  long  time  after  the  old  gentleman  had  eaten  his 
breakfast,  and  read  the  paper  through,  he  sat  at  the  table, 
balancing  his  spoon  on  the  edge  of  his  cup,  and  looking 
very  intently  at  the  fire. 

'  It 's  very  strange,'  said  he,  taking  his  handkerchief  out 
of  his  pocket,  and  blowing  his  nose  very  hard  •,  '  it  is  strange ; ' 
and  then  he  got  up  and  walked  to  the  window,  and  looked 
abstractedly  out  in  the  wet  streets.  '  I  can't  bring  myself 
to  think  this  poor  girl  what  I  know  she  must  be  :  appear 
ances  are  much  against  her  —  very  much  against  her  ;'  and 
he  blew  his  nose  very  hard  again.  *  Well,  Mary,  how 's  your 
patient  ? '  said  he,  addressing  a  servant  who  came  in  at  that 
moment. 

'  She 's  better,  Sir ;  but  she  takes  on  sadly.  She  does 
nothing  but  cry.  She's  been  sadly  used,  Sir ;  I  'm  sure  of  it.' 

'  Poor  thing  ! '  said  the  old  man  ;  '  they  are  horribly 
used — all  of  them.' 

Without  saying  any  thing  more,  he  went  up  stairs,  and 
going  to  Lucy's  bedside,  felt  her  pulse  ;  then  sat  down  with 
out  speaking. 

'  You  are  very  kind,'  said  Lucy,  faintly,  '  to  trouble  your 
self  about  one  like  me.' 


90  THE    ATTORNEY. 

4  It 's  as  I  feared  ! '  thought  the  Doctor  ;  but  still  he  looked 
kindly  at  her. 

'  You  must  have  thought  very  ill  of  me,  from  where 
you  found  me  —  you  and  the  lady,'  said  she,  looking  toward 
the  young  girl,  with  a  sadness  that  made  her  very  heart 
ache.  *  I  'ni  very  poor,  and  have  suffered  much  ;  but  that's 
all ;  and  you  wrong  me  if  you  think  any  thing  worse  than 
that.' 

1 1  knew  it ! '  said  the  Doctor,  emphatically  ;  '  I  said  so 
from  the  first.  Did  n't  I,  Miss  Crawford  ? '  . 

The  young  lady  did  not  recollect  any  communication  of 
the  kind,  so  she  only  smiled  and  said  nothing,  and  Lucy  went 
on.  Her  tale  was  a  long  one,  and  sad  enough.  She  told  it 
all.  She  told  how  she  had  left  the  home  and  friends  of  her 
childhood.  She  told  how  they  had  loved  her ;  how  they  had 
grieved  at  their  parting,  and  what  kind  things  they  had  said 
and  done  when  she  bade  them  farewell,  and  went  oft'  with 
one  who  had  promised  to  love  her,  and  to  make  her  new 
home  a  happy  one ;  how  buoyant  and  confident  she  had  felt, 
and  how  gay  and  light-hearted  she  was  then ;  and  how  her 
mother  had  laid  her  hand  upon  her  head,  and  blessed  her, 
and  blessed  him,  and  hoped  that  God  would  prosper  them  in 
life,  and  make  them  love  each  other. 

She  had  laughed  then,  and  he  (she  would  not  mention  his 
name)  had  laughed  too,  and  they  went  away  to  her  new 
home.  Then  her  sorrows  began.  The  newrs  came  that  her 
mother  was  ill.  Then  came  a  letter  ;  she  was  worse ;  and 
then  another ;  she  was  dead.  But  her  husband  was  kind 
to  her,  and  soothed  her,  and  did  all  that  he  could  to 
make  her  forget  her  grief;  and  she  was  happy  again, 
although  she  was  alone,  with  no  one  in  the  wide  world 
but  him.  She  told  how  they  had  lived  together  long  after 
the  death  of  her  mother ;  but  her  husband  soon  began  to 


THE    ATTORNEY.  97 

change  toward  her ;  he  grew  more  and  more  cold.  He  went 
from  his  home  oftener,  and  staid  from  it  longer.  He  became 
stern  and  savage  ;  talked  frequently  of  his  poverty,  and 
spoke  to  her  as  if  she  were  the  cause  of  it.  One  by  one 
they  sold  every  thing ;  and  as  they  became  poorer,  he  grew 
more  stern  and  fierce,  until  the  night  before,  when  his  treat 
ment  had  been  such  that  she  had  left  her  home ;  and  now 
she  knew  not  where  to  turn  or  whither  to  go.  She  refused 
to  tell  her  husband's  name  ;  and  when  she  had  finished,  she 
turned  her  head  upon  the  pillow,  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart 
would  break. 

''You  have  a  home,  lady,'  said  she,  and  those  about  you 
who  love  you,  and  would  go  to  the  end  of  the  world  to 
serve  you  ;  .but  I,  GOD  knows,  I  wish  I  was  in  my  grave  ! 
Not  a  soul  will  care  for  me  —  not  even  lie  ! ' 

Her  hearers  listened  in  silence.  They  did  not  doubt  the 
truth  of  her  story  —  not  for  an  instant.  Her  frail  figure, 
her  anxious  eye,  her  faded  cheek  ;  her  wasted  hand,  so  white 
and  thin  that  they  could  almost  see  through  it  —  all  con 
firmed  it. 

For  some  time  after  she  was  silent,  Miss  Crawford  and  the 
Doctor  sat  watching  her  agitated  face,  as  if  they  expected 
to  hear  something  more  ;  but  she  had  finished  her  tale. 

At  last  the  Doctor  got  up,  walked  to  the  window,  looked 
out,  cleared  his  throat  with  great  emphasis,  took  a  pinch  of 
snuff,  and  then  came  back  and  seated  himself. 

'  My  God  !  my  poor  girl !  this  is  dreadful  treatment ! ' 
exclaimed  he. 

Lucy  said  something  which  they  could  not  hear. 

'And  that  husband  of  yours,'  exclaimed  he,  growing  ex 
cited  ;  '  what  an  infernal  scamp  he  is  !  Why,  I  '11 * 

Lucy  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm :    'Ah !  Sir,  you  do  n't 
know  what  want  and  suffering  will  do.     Poverty  with  the 
5 


98  THE    ATTORNEY. 

rich  is  not  like  poverty  with  the  poor.  With  the  first  it  is 
but  the  want  of  a  few  luxuries,  or  some  little  matter  of  con 
venience  or  pleasure.  The  poor  have  not  even  food.  It  is 
that  which  eats  into  a  man's  soul.  Sometimes,  the  more  he 
loves,  the  worse  he  is.  That's  the  way  with  him.  Do  n't 
speak  as  you  were  going  to.  He  was  driven  to  what  he  did, 
and  is  sorry  for  it  now.  I  know  he  is.' 

1  God  bless  me  ! '  exclaimed  Dr.  Thurston,  perfectly  non 
plussed.  '  God  bless  me  !  did  you  ever  hear  the  like  ?  I  '11 
be  d d — (I  beg  pardon,'  said  he,  bowing  to  Miss  Craw 
ford,)  '  but  I  '11  be  positively  d d  if  she  is  n't  standing  up 

for  that  rascal  who  kicked  her  out  of  doors !  She 's  mad  — 
must  be.  It  can't  be  that  any  one  in  her  senses  would  justify 
such  an  infernal  good-for-nothing ' 

*  Doctor,'  said  Miss  Crawford,  interrupting  him,  and  lead 
ing  him  across  the  room,  and  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  '  this 
poor  girl  is  completely  exhausted.  Would  it  not  be  better 
to  keep  quiet  ourselves,  and  keep  her  so  ?  I  think  she  needs 
sleep.' 

'Always  considerate,  Miss  Crawford  ;  always  like  yourself/ 
said  the  warm-hearted  old  man,  pressing  the  hand  that  rested 
on  his  arm:  'I  hope  you'll  get  a  husband  who  deserves 
you  —  that's  all.' 

It  is  probable  that  the  young  lady  had  some  ideas  and 
hopes  of  her  own  on  the  subject,  for  she  blushed  deeply. 

Both  of  them  then  used  their  ^utmost  endeavors  to  soothe 
the  patient ;  and  they  soon  had  the  satisfaction  of  leaving 
her  in  a  deep  and  quiet  sleep.  '  She  '11  be  better  when  she 
awakes,'  said  he ;  '  and  now,  Miss  Crawford,  go  to  your 
room,  for  your  watching  here,  and  at  your  father's  bedside, 
has  been  too  much  for  you.  You  too  want  rest.  It  will 
never  do  for  those  eyes  of  yours  to  lose  their  brightness.' 

The  young  lady  suffered  herself  to  be  led  from  the  room ; 


THE    ATTORNEY.  99 

but  just  as  the  Doctor  was  preparing  to  leave  her,  she  laid 
her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  said  with  a  trembling  voice : 

'  Doctor,  I  must  now  ask  a  question  which  I  conjure  you 
to  answer  me  truly,  on  your  honor.  My  father '  —  she  paused 
to  recover'  her  calmness  — '  what  do  you  think  of  his  situa 
tion  ?  Will  he  recover  ? ' 

The  old  man  took  both  her  hands  in  his,  pressed  them 
together,  and  in  a  solemn  tone,  that  went  to  her  very  heart, 
said,  '  GOD'S  will  be  done ! '  and  hurried  away. 

The  girl  reeled  as  if  she  had  received  a  sudden  blow,  and 
scarcely  conscious  of  what  she  did,  went  to  her  own  room, 
locked  the  door,  and  throwing  herself  on  the  bed,  lay  as  one 
stunned. 


100  THE    ATTORNEY. 


TO  THE  EDITOR. 

DEAR  SIR  : — I  have  just  returned  from  the  green  fields, 
the  blue  skies,  and  the  rich,  glowing  sunshine  of  the  coun 
try.  I  spent  my  time  in  lingering  through  the  dark  shadowy 
woods,  or  in  sauntering  along  the  borders  of  a  brook  that 
wound  through  copse,  meadow,  and  woodland ;  sometimes 
gliding  in  unruffled  smoothness  between  fringed  banks,  and 
at  others  indulging  a  very  choleric  sputtering  where  stones 
or  rocks  stood  in  its  way. 

AH  was  so  fresh  and  gay  and  glowing,  that  I  could  scarcely 
persuade  myself  it  was  nature  and  not  myself  that  was  young. 
The  flowers,  the  fields,  trees,  birds,  all  seemed  the  self-same 
that  I  had  seen  when  a  boy.  A  small,  busy,  bustling  wren 
had  her  nest  at  the  window  of  my  room,  and  the  first  note 
that  I  heard  at  daybreak  was  the  loud,  joyous,  gushing  voice 
of  that  little  bird.  Oh  !  how  my  memory  floated  back  on 
that  tide  of  song  to  the  days  of  childhood !  A  wren  sang  at 
my  window  then  ;  and  when  I  awake  now,  and  hear  the  loud, 
glad  note  of  this  merry  little  chorister,  I  fancy  myself  still  a 
child  ;  that  this  long,  long,  weary  life  is  a  dream,  and  that  I 
am  not  a  decrepit,  broken-down  old  man. 

Yet  when  I  once  turned  my  face  to  the  city,  how  I  longed 
to  reach  my  old  home !  With  what  an  affectionate  eye  I 
looked  at  the  old  house  !  Its  ruined  walls,  its  small  narrow 
windows,  its  creaking  stairs  and  gloomy  chambers,  each  had 
a  corner  in  my  heart ;  and  it  was  with  a  glow  of  secret  pride 
that  I  once  more  seated  myself  in  my  own  chair,  and  felt 
that  I  was  at  home  at  last. 

I  found  a  number  of  letters  awaiting  my  return ;  and 
among  them  the  following  from  my  former  correspondent, 
Mr.  Snagg : 


THE    ATTORNEY.  101 

'Sept.  9th,  1841. 
*  MR.  JOHN  QUOD,  ESQ. 

'  MY  DEAR  OLD  BOY  : — Some  folks  like  what 's  pathetic  — 
some  do  n't ;  and  I  am  one  of  them.  Do  n't  take  it  hard ; 
but  it 's  high  time  you  should  know  you  are  going  it 
too  strong  in  that  line.  As  for  your  heroine,  she  has  done 
nothing  but  snivel  and  weep,  from  first  to  last.  We  found 
her  at  it,  and  left  her  at  it.  It 's  too  much  pork  for  a  shil 
ling.  Now  do  give  us  something  jolly  —  there  's  a  good 
fellow  !  Sprinkle  in  a  few  chaps-  like  that  Higgs  ;  or  give 
us  a  little  more  of  him.  He  knows  a  thing  or  two.  The 
way  he  came  it  over  the  man  in  the  eating-house  was  not 
so  bad :  but  I  could  have  given  him  a  few  hints  in  that  line, 
which  would  be  very  useful  to  one  of  his  standing  in  society. 
Perhaps  you  do  n't  know  it ;  but  that  dog  Bitters  is  your 
great  card.  Bring  him  forward  often ;  he 's  a  general  favor 
ite  :  '  My  bowels  fairly  yearn  toward  him,'  as  some  one  says, 
somewhere  —  he 's  so  like  Slaughter !  How  he  would  pin  a 
bull! 

'As  for  Lucy — couldn't  you  kill  her  quietly?  If  you 
could,  it  would  be  judicious;  if  you  can't,  dish  her  up 
in  small  quantities,  or,  by  G  —  d !  you  '11  turn  some  one's 
stomach.  I  've  a  sister  who  hates  the  name.  She  took  to 
her  bed  when  she  first  saw  it :  but  now  we  scratch  it  out 
with  a  lead-pencil,  and  write  Mary  over  it ;  and  then,  with 
the  assistance  of  a  smelling-bottle,  she  contrives  to  survive 
the  reading  of  your  correspondence.  *  What 's  in  a«aame,' 
etc.,  is  all  gammon. 

'  But  all  this  is  neither  here  nor  there.  I  commenced  this 
letter  to  say  that  several  very  respectable  gentlemen  of  my 
acquaintance  would  be  highly  delighted  to  open  a  corre 
spondence  with  you  on  things  in  general ;  and  that  we  have 


102  THE    ATTORNEY. 

determined  to  make  you  a  member  of  our  club  of  '  Infant 
Roarers.'  It  would  have  been  done  at  the  last  meeting ;  but 
one  of  our  most  distinguished  dogs  baited  a  bull  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  city ;  and  two  imported  cocks  were  pitted  against 
each  other  on  the  same  evening.  So  that  no  one  was  pre 
sent  except  myself  (who  came  on  purpose  to  nominate  you) 
and  one  other  very  respectable  gentleman,  who  was  unable 
to  attend  either  exhibition,  owing  to  an  infirmity  in  one  leg, 
which  he  lately  broke  in  a  fight  with  a  watchman. 

'  Of  course,  as  you  are  an  old  man,  you  won't  be  expected 
to  do  much  in  the  fighting  way.  Just  drop  in  at  the  meet 
ings  when  it 's  convenient.  The  dog-fights,  bull-baits,  etc., 
of  course  your  own  taste  will  lead  you  to  attend ;  and,  be 
tween  you  and  I,  if  you  should  happen  to  be  out  on  a  lark 
with  us,  you  might  occasionally  knock  down  a  small  watch 
man  or  a  sickly  one,  just  for  the  name  of  the  thing.  I  '11 
attend  to  the  big  ones. 

*  Yours  to  the  back-bone, 

'ISAAC  SNAGG. 

*  P.  S. — I  copy  an  extract  from  the  minutes  of  the  last 
meeting  of  the  club  of  '  Infant  Roarers.' 

'  *  RESOLVED  :  That  we  have  read  with  the  highest  satisfac 
tion  the  letter  of  ISAAC  SNAGG,  Esq.,  to  Mr.  JOHN  QUOD, 
contained  in  the  fourth  number  of  that  last  gentleman's  cor 
respondence  with  the  New- York  KNICKERBOCKER,  and  that, 
with  all  due  respect  to  that  worthy  gentleman,  we  consider 
the  letter  the  most  interesting  portion  of  the  correspondence, 
and  that  it  does  honor  to  the  head  and  heart  of  the  gentle 
man  who  penned  it. 

1 1  RESOLVED  :  That  to  show  our  high  regard  for  the  talents 
of  Mr.  SNAGG,  and  for  the  merits  of  the  valuable  animal 


THE    ATTORNEY.  103 

whose  virtues  lie  commemorates,  the  said  letter  be  recorded 
among  the  minutes  of  this  Society.'  '  i.  s.' 

About  a  week  after  the  preceding  letter,  the  following 
notice  was  left  at  my  abode,  as  I  was  informed,  by  a  small 
boy  with  one  eye  not  a  little  damaged,  from  having  recently 
come  in  contact  with  some  hard  obstacle  —  possibly  a  fist : 

'Sept.  25th,  1841. 

'  SIR  :  I  have  the  honor  to  inform  you  that  at  a  regular 
meeting  of  the  Society  of  Infant  Roarers,  held  at  their  '  Den,' 
on  the  21st  day  of  September  instant,  you  were  unanimously 
elected  a  member  of  that  Society. 

4  By  order  of  the  Trustees : 

*  JOHN  SQUAIL,  Sec'y.' 

1  To  JOHN  QUOD,  ESQ. 

'A  special  meeting  of  the  members  of  the  Society  will  be 
held  at  the  '  Den,'  on  the  first  day  of  October  proximo,  to 
take  into  consideration  matters  of  much  importance.  A 
punctual  attendance  is  requested,  as  it  is  desirable  that  the 
meeting  should  be  as  full  as  possible. 

'  JOHN  SQUAIL,  Sec'y.' 

A  day  or  two  afterward  I  received  the  following  letter 
from  Mr.  Snagg : 

'September  27,  1841. 
'  MR.  JOHN  QUOD,  ESQ. 

'  MY  DEAR  BOY  :  Before  this  you  will  have  received  notice 
from  the  Secretary  of  the  Society  of  I.  E.'s,  informing  you 
that  you  are  one  of  us.  You  went  in  by  a  unanimous  vote ; 
for  you  've  no  idea  of  the  sensation  your  last  number  created 
among  us  —  particularly  my  letter.  There 's  to  be  a  special 


104  THE    ATTORNEY. 

meeting  of  the  Society  on  tlie  first  of  next  month.  Do  n't 
fail  to  be  there.  All  the  best  bull-dogs  in  the  country  are  to 
be  produced,  and  a  game-cock  of  a  famous  strain,  the  closest 
hitter  and  best  mouther  in  the  State  ;  and  it 's  said  a  match 
is  to  be  made  up  between  Big  Ben  and  Raw  Pete.  Excuse 
my  breaking  off  abruptly  ;  but  it  wants  a  quarter  to  six,  and 
I  have  appointed  the  hour  of  six  precisely  for  a  dun  to  call 
here,  so  that  I  might  know  exactly  when  to  be  out. 
'Yours,  t.  t.  in., 

'  ISAAC  SNAGG.' 

In  reply  to  the  critique  in  the  first  letter  of  Mr.  Snagg,  I 
can  only  say  that  the  web  of  the  story  is  woven  in  truth,  and 
it  must  take  its  course ;  but  for  the  kindness  which  he  has 
evinced  towards  me,  I  return  my  warmest  thanks :  as  also 
for  the  honor  conferred  upon  me,  through  his  influence,  by 
the  Society  of  Infant  Roarers ;  an  honor  which  to  say  the 
least  was  most  unexpected.  My  time,  however,  is  so  much 
taken  up  with  other  matters,  that  I  fear  I  shall  scarcely  be 
able  to  attend  their  meetings  with  the  punctuality  which  the 
rules  of  the  Society  and  the  importance  of  its  objects  require : 
but  at  all  times,  I  shall  be  happy  to  receive  any  communica 
tion  from  the  members  of  that  respectable  Society,  or  from 
any  other  person  who  numbers  Mr.  Snagg  among  his  friends. 

JOHN  QUOD. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  105 


CHAPTER    IX. 

IT  was  one  of  those  bitter  nights  that  cut  one  to  the  heart. 
The  sharp  wind  went  hissing  through  the  streets,  mocking 
the  shivering  limbs,  and  breaking  the  hearts  of  the  wretched 
and  homeless.  Up  and  down  the  streets,  through  alleys  and 
along  broad  avenues,  it  swept  with  the  same  intense  rigor. 
The  streets  had  been  drenched  with  rain :  puddles  were 
standing  in  every  hollow,  the  whole  city  was  teeming  with 
moisture,  when  this  fierce  wind  came  sweeping  along.  Every 
thing  disappeared  before  it ;  pool  after  pool  of  water  went  as 
if  by  magic,  no  one  knew  where.  The  pavements  were  dry, 
parched  as  in  the  very  heat  of  summer.  The  streets,  which 
at  that  hour  of  night  were  generally  peopled  with  a  living 
multitude,  were  empty.  A  desertion  like  that  in  times  of 
pestilence  had  come  over  them ;  and  the  cold  winter  wind 
went  rushing  madly  on  its  course,  moaning  and  sighing  and 
howling  through  old  buildings  and  dark  entries  and  over 
chimney-tops,  its  own  wild  voice  drowning  the  groans  which 
it  wrung  from  thousands. 

What  a  night  it  was  for  those  who  owned  no  home  but 
the  world,  no  shelter  but  the  sky !  Into  what  wretched  holes 
they  shrank  !  —  in  stables,  in  kennels,  in  sheds  with  beasts. 
Shivering  boys  gathered  at  the  doors  of  blacksmiths'  shops, 
and  looked  wistfully  in  at  the  red  fire ;  and  wretched  old 
men  stole  up  to  the  windows  of  rich  dwellings,  and  peered 
in,  hoping  to  cheer  their  icy  hearts  by  the  comfort  which 
they  saw  within.  Oh !  could  we  but  distinguish  the  sighs 
and  groans  which  mingle  in  the  wild  melody  of  the  north 
5* 


106  THE    ATTORNEY. 

wind,  as  it  comes  careering  along,  how  mournfully  sad  would 
be  the  sound ! 

The  forbidding  appearance  of  the  weather  was  not  without 
its  influence  upon  a  small  elderly  lady  who  dwelt  in  a  snug 
house  near  the  Bowery,  and  who  was  sitting  in  a  state  of 
nervous  expectation  in  a  high  chair  with  a  straight  narrow 
back,  in  a  small  back  parlor  communicating  with  a  front  one 
by  folding-doors.  This  was  Mrs.  Dow,  the  widow-elect  of 
Wilkins.  She  was  a  small,  thin  woman,  tough,  wiry,  and 
not  unlike  a  bundle  of  rattans ;  and  many  years  ago,  it  is 
probable,  had  been  better-looking.  She  was  to  be  pitied 
if  she  had  not.  But  Time  generally  has  his  own  way 
with  the  old  and  young.  He  digs  the  graves  of  the  first, 
and  blights  the  bright  promise  of  the  second  ;  and  the  widow 
had  not  escaped  the  general  doom.  She  had  resisted  to  the 
last ;  but  the  old  gentleman  of  the  scythe  and  hour-glass, 
finding  her  likely  to  prove  a  hard  customer,  and  having 
plenty  of  leisure  on  his  hands,  instead  of  a  storm  commenced 
a  siege ;  and  at  the  end  of  fifty  years  Mrs.  Dow  had  withered 
down  into  the  small  elderly  lady  just  described.  When  she 
fell  in  with  Wilkins,  she  had  retired  from  the  combat,  and, 
though  a  little  excitable,  had  betaken  herself  to  meekness 
and  prayer-meetings.  Meek  widows,  however,  are  very  apt 
to  fancy  reckless,  dare-devil  men,  especially  if  the  widows 
are  a  little  pious.  It  gives  a  flavor  to  their  existence. 

The  whole  room  had  an  air  of  comfort,  which  was  in 
creased  by  contrast  with  the  howling  of  the  blast  without. 
Heavy  curtains  reached  the  floor,  and  shut  out  the  cold 
air.  A  bright  fire  burnt  cheerily  in  the  grate,  before 
which  stood  an  arm-chair,  at  present  unoccupied.  The 
mantel-piece  was  decorated  with  two  plated  candlesticks  of 
a  spiral  form.  From  the  top  of  each,  a  rose  of  green  papei 
peeped  coyly  out,  and  between  them  two  unknown  shells, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  107 

brought  from  a  distant  sea,  were  recumbent  on  a  bed  of  green 
paper,  carefully  scolloped  out  at  the  edges.  Over  these,  in  a 
very  small  gilt  frame,  hung  the  profile  of  the  late  Mr.  Dow, 
cut  from  a  card,  with  a  piece  of  black  silk  introduced  in  the 
rear,  and  showing  off  to  all  advantage  a  pug  nose  and  an 
ample  shirt-ruffle.  The  chairs  in  the  room  were  all  of 
mahogany,  and  were  Mrs.  Dow's  own.  In  truth,  the  widow 
was  well  to  do  in  the  world,  and  it  was  her  wealth  which 
had  excited  the  cupidity  of  Wilkins. 

-he  sat  in  her  high-backed  chair,  she  glanced  restlessly 
at  the  clock  and  then  about  the  room.  There  was  a  speck  of 
dust,  on  one  of  the  chairs,  so  she  got  up  and  wiped  it  off 
with  her  handkerchief!  'Ah  me ! '  said  she,  pausing  before 
a  looking-glass,  and  tenderly  adjusting  a  very  small  curl, 
which  peeped  from  under  her  cap.  '  Our  present  state  of 
existence  is  a  very  precarious  one — very.'  And  having 
uttered  this  moral  apothegm,  Mrs.  Dow  bestowed  a  few  small 
attentions  on  a  fierce  little  ribbon,  done  up  as  a  bow,  which 
was  perched  on  the  highest  elevation  of  her  cap.  'Very 
precarious  indeed,'  continued  she,  turning  first  one  side  of 
her  head  to  the  glass,  then  the  other,  and  making  a  desperate 
effort  to  catch  a  transient  glance  of  the  back  of  her  neck. 
4  The  world 's  a  fleeting  show ;  life 's  a  dream.  Gracious  me ! 
how  the  wind  whistles ! ' 

Having  finished  her  occupation,  Mrs.  Dow  drew  a  large 
chair  near  the  fire,  sank  gently  into  it,  and  fixed  her  eyes 
pathetically  on  the  profile  of  the  late  Mr.  D.  'Ah  !  he  was 
a  dear  good  man  —  he  was!'  and  she  shook  her  head 
mournfully  at  the  profile.  Then  she  thought  how  that  re 
spectable  gentleman,  one  pleasant  evening,  had  thrown  him 
self  into  that  very  arm-chair,  and  placing  a  small  stool  under 
each  foot,  and  quietly  observing  that  he  intended  to  take  a 
long  nap,  had  subsided  into  a  calm  apoplexy,  and  was  now 


108  THE    ATTORNEY. 

finishing  his  nap  in  a  neighboring  church-yard  —  a  neat 
marble  slab,  surmounted  by  two  cherubs,  beautifully  carved 
with  curly  hair,  and  wings  growing  out  of  the  back  of  their 
necks,  being  carefully  placed  over  him,  to  keep  him  com 
fortable. 

*  He  was  a  nice  man,  Mr.  Dow ;  so  kind  —  and  he  died  so 
easy  !     It  was  so  like  him  —  so  considerate !     Never  gave 
trouble.     Poor  dear  !  he  Always  wanted  to  die  on  a  suddent; 
and  always  hoped  he  would  n't  suffer  when  he  died.     Provi 
dence  was  kind  to  him,  very  ;  he  was  gratified  in  both  wishes. 
I  'm  sure  he  had  every  reason  to  be  thankful.' 

A  very  faint  cough,  and  a  slight  snuffle  in  the  room, 
startled  the  speaker. 

1  Who 's  there  ? '  demanded  she,  in  a  tremulous  tone,  and 
not  altogether  without  apprehension  that  the  late  Mr.  Dow, 
encouraged  by  her  reflections,  and  finding  his  quarters  in  the 
church-yard  a  little  cool,  might  have  dropped  in  to  warm 
himself  at  her  fire. 

'Me,'  replied  a  solemn  voice,  emanating  from  a  man-servant, 
clad  in  a  broad-skirted  snuff-colored  coat  and  rusty  unmen 
tionables. 

4  Oh !  it 's  you,  Aaron,  is  it  ? '  said  the  lady,  sharply,  as  the 
man-servant  advanced,  and  paused,  with  a  puzzled  look,  in 
the  middle  of  room.  '  What  brings  you  here  ?  What  do 
you  want  ? ' 

The  man-servant  uttered  the  single  word  *  sugar,'  at  the 
same  time  extending  toward  the  relict  of  the  late  Mr.  Dow 
a  receptacle  for  that  article,  of  the  smallest  credible  dimen 
sions. 

*  Sugar ! ' 

The  man  nodded. 

'  Well,  I  never,  in  all  my  born  days !  It  was  filled  not  — 
(let  me  see:  Monday,  Friday,  Tuesday,  Monday,  Friday)  — 


THE    ATTORNEY.  109 

not  ten  days  ago,  and  more  sugar !  It 's  sinful ! '  and  Mrs. 
Dow  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven  in  pious  wrath.  '  Many  poor 
wretches,'  continued  she,  fumbling  in  her  pocket  for  the  keys, 

*  never  have  sugar  in  their  tea.     That  idea  should  make  this 
little  cup  last  a  fortnight  at  least.     You  have  n't  a  proper 
spirit,  Aaron.     If  you  had,  the  thought  of  the  poor  starving 
beggar  in  the  street  would  sweeten  your  tea  almost  without 
sugar.     I  'm  sure  of  it.' 

The  man-servant  seemed  to  entertain  a  different  opinion ; 
but  as  Mrs.  Dow  took  the  cup  from  his  hand,  and  proceeded 
to  fill  it,  he  kept  his  thoughts  to  himself. 

'  There,'  said  the  lady,  a  little  red  in  the  face,  from  bend 
ing  over  the  sugar-barrel,  and  locking  the  door  of  the  closet, 

*  take  that,  and  I  hope  you  '11  remember  what  I  have  said.' 

'  I  will,'  said  the  man,  moving  toward  the  door. 

'  Stop,  Aaron.  What  did  you  give  the  lame  boy,  with  a 
sick  mother  and  three  small  sisters,  when  he  called  to-day  2 ' 

'  Two  cold  'taters,  and  an  inion,'  said  Aaron. 

'  That 's  right.  Always  assist  the  poor ; '  and  Mrs.  Dow 
looked  blandly  at  the  solemn  domestic.  '  When  he  comes 
again,  you  may  inquire  how  his  poor  mother  is.  You  needn't 
give  him  any  thing  to-day.  It  might  encourage  gluttony ; 
and  gluttony,  you  know,  is  one  of  the  great  cardinal  sins 
spoken  against  in  Scripture.' 

*  Yes,'  said  the  man-servant,  shifting  his  weight  from  one 
leg  to  the  other. 

'  How  it  delights  one  to  have  done  a  charitable  act ! '  said 
Mrs.  Dow.  *  Do  n't  you  feel  it,  Aaron  ? ' 

'Is  it  a  queer  feeling  about  here  ? '  asked  the  man-servant, 
pressing  his  fingers  with  an  air  of  profound  investigatior  in 
various  parts  of  his  abdomen.  'A  sort  of  emptiness  ? ' 

'It's  delightful!'  ejaculated  the  widow,  her  face  glowing 
with  benevolence  toward  the  whole  human  race,  and  toward 


110  THE    ATTORNEY. 

lame  boys  with  sick  mothers  and   young  sisters   in  paiti- 
cular. 

*  Then  I  do  n't  feel  it,'  said  Aaron  ;  and  he  shook  his  head 
disconsolately :  '  I  thought  I  did,  but  it  could  n't  'a'  been.  It 
must  ha'  been  wind  in  the  stomach.' 

Mrs.  Dow  paid  no  attention  to  this  matter-of-fact  remark, 
but  requested  him  to  '  think  of  that  sick  mother  and  them 
hungry  children,  when  they  sat  down  to  the  meal  which  her 
bounty  had  provided.' 

'  I  do  think  on  'em,'  replied  Aaron,  looking  hard  at  the 
small  sugar-cup,  and  edging  off  toward  the  kitchen. 

'How  the  grateful  tears  will  fill  their  eyes ' 

'  Won't  they  ! '  ejaculated  Aaron ;  '  especially  if  they 
ventur'  to  eat  that  'ere  inion.  It  was  a  raw  von.' 

Mrs.  Dow  drew  herself  up  with  dignity,  and  told  the  man 
servant  that  he  might  withdraw. 

Aaron  was  already  at  the  door,  when  suddenly  he  paused, 
and  smoothing  his  hair  straight  over  his  forehead  with  his 
left  hand,  made  a  step  or  two  toward  the  centre  of  the  room, 
and  look  earnestly  in  the  fire.  As  these  preparations  gene 
rally  indicated  something,  Mrs.  Dow  asked,  sharply :  '  Well, 
what  now  ? ' 

lln  this  evening  ? '  said  Aaron,  with  some  vivacity,  but 
making  no  other  motion  than  a  slight  questioning  nod  of 
the  head. 

'  In ! '  replied  the  widow,  with  a  slight  increase  of  shrill 
ness  ;  '  of  course  I  'm  in.' 

'  To  every  body  ? '  demanded  Aaron,  in  the  same  tone. 

*  Yes,  every  body.' 

'That  Wilkins,  too?' 

'  Of  course  to  Mr.  Wilkins.  Why  not  ? '  and  now  Mrs. 
Dow's  voice  became  a  little  louder,  and  a  little  sharper. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  Ill 

'  Oh !  no  reason  in  the  world  —  none  at  all,'  replied  the 
man-servant ;  '  but  might  I  ventur'  ? ' 

Mrs.  Dow  paused  to  reflect ;  and  then,  having  made  up 
her  mind  that  an  elderly  man-servant  in  drabs  was  not  likely 
to  venture  too  far,  she  considerately  assented. 

'  Well,  then,'  exclaimed  Aaron,  advancing,  and  extending 
his  right  hand  in  the  energy  of  his  speech,  '  that  chap  Wil- 
kins  —  you  should  guard  ag'in'  him  :  he  's  an  owdacious 
cha-racter  ! ' 

'Aaron !'  exclaimed  the  lady,  standing  bolt  upright ;  '  you 
alarm  me !  Speak  !  What  have  you  learned  ?  What  do 
you  know  ? ' 

'  Nothing,'  said  Aaron.  '  I  wish  I  did  know  something ; ' 
and  he  shook  his  head  mournfully ;  '  but  I  suspects  ;  '  and 
now  the  shake  of  his  head  was  ominous. 

'  What  do  you  suspect  ?  I  can't  bear  suspense.  It  excites 
me  to  a  degree ! '  And  to  prove  this  last  assertion,  she 
seized  the  man-servant  by  the  coat  collar,  and  shook  him 
violently. 

The  man  waited  until  she  had  finished,  and  then  adjusted 
his  collar.  'I  suspect  a  great  deal  —  a  very  great  deal!' 
said  he,  looking  impressively  into  the  eyes  of  his  mistress, 
and  sinking  his  voice.  '  I  know  it  by  a  sign  that  never 
fails.' 

Small  women  are  sometimes  nervous,  and  nervous  women 
have  been  known  to  faint ;  but  Mrs.  Dow  did  not,  although 
her  voice  was  a  little  quickened  in  volubility,  as  she  said  : 
'What  is  it,  Aaron  ?  —  quick — tell  me  —  don't  keep  me 
a-dying  here  —  oh  my  !  oh  my  ! ' 

*  The  sign,'  replied  Aaron,  confidently,  '  I  know  it  by,  is 
the  cut  of  his  eye.' 

'  The  what  ? ' 

*  The  cut  of  his  eye,'  reiterated  Aaron,  positively ;  com- 


112  THE    ATTORNEY. 

pressing  his  lips,  and  looking  at  his  mistress  with  a  stern, 
impressive  air.  '  Try  a  man  on  all  tacks,  and  they  may  fail ; 
but  let  me  get  the  cut  of  his  eye,  and  I  knows  him  at  once.' 

'Aaron,'  replied  the  widow,  recovering  instantly,  '  the  cut 
of  Mr.  Wilkins's  eye  is  no  ground  for  suspicion  against  his 
respectability.  I  have  never  seen  any  thing  at  all  unpleasant 
in  their  expression,  or  denoting  a  bad  character ;  and  if  he 
does  sometimes  sit  with  his  feet  on  the  new  brass  fender,  and 
occasionally  spit  on  the  clean  grate,  these  are  trifles — flaws 
in  a  gem  —  spots  on  the  sun.  You  must  from  this  time 
cease  your  remarks  respecting  both  his  eyes  and  character,' 
as  he  's  a  friend  of  mine  —  a  very  particular  friend.' 

Mrs.  Dow  coughed  as  she  uttered  these  last  words,  and 
the  man-servant,  who  had  nothing  to  justify  his  suspicion 
against  Wilkins  except  a  general  dislike  to  him,  drew  back 
abashed. 

4  You  may  go.' 

Aaron  cast  a  disconsolate  look  at  the  widow,  shook  his 
head,  and  left  the  room. 

4  She 's  a  gone  horse  ! '  said  he,  as  he  shut  the  door,  { or 
my  name  's  not  Aaron  ! ' 

A  new  course,  however,  was  given  to  the  current  of  his 
ideas  by  a  knock  at  the  door. 

*  That's  him,  I  know,'  muttered  he,  showing  his  displeasure 
in  the  only  manner  that  he  dared,  by  obeying  the  summons 
as  slowly  as  possible.     '  If  I  did  n't  know  she  was  a-listenin', 
he  would  n't  get  in  now,  nuther.' 

"With  this  muttered  expression  of  dissatisfaction,  he  opened 
the  door. 

*  Is  your  mistress  at  home  ? '  demanded  a  voice  which  he 
anticipated,  although  the  darkness  prevented  him  from  seeing 
his  person. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  113 

*  What 's  your  name  ? '  demanded  Aaron.  *  I  never  let 
no  body  in  without  their  name.'  » 

The  man  made  no  reply,  but  thrust  the  door  violently 
open,  jamming  Aaron  between  it  and  the  wall,  to  the  great 
annoyance  of  his  person,  which,  being  somewhat  prominent 
in  the  region  of  the  stomach,  found  the  compass  of  six  inches 
into  which  he  was  pressed  rather  more  inconvenient  than 
otherwise. 

1  D — n  you !  would  you  let  a  man  stand  there  and  freeze  ? ' 
said  the  other,  as  he  stepped  in.  '  Do  n't  you  hear  the  wind 
howling  as  if  hell  was  riding  on  it  ?  Is  this  a  night  to  ask 
a  man's  name  ?  Get  to  your  mistress  and  tell  her  I  'm  here. 
Shut  the  door,  and  be  quick  ! ' 

'  You  need  n't  wait  for  that,'  said  Aaron,  sulkily,  passing 
his  hand  over  the  aggrieved  parts  of  his  body.  '  She  's  been 
a-waiting  for  you  these  three  nights.  There 's  the  door ;  you 
can  go  in.' 

'  So  you  Ve  found  out  who  I  am,  have  you  ?  It 's  well 
you  did ;  or  it  might  have  been  put  in  your  head  in  a  way 
you  would  n't  have  liked  so  well.' 

As  he  said  this,  Wiikins  turned  from  him,  and  going  to 
the  room  door,  opened  it,  went  in,  and  shut  it  after  him.  As 
soon  as  the  door  closed,  Aaron  advanced,  shook  his  fist  vio 
lently  at  the  third  panel  three  successive  times ;  indulged  in 
several  strange  and  uncouth  distortions  of  the  face,  indicative 
of  bitter  hostility ;  then  quietly  went  to  the  kitchen  to  com 
municate  his  troubles  and  suspicions  to  an  elderly  female 
with  projecting  teeth  and  red  hair,  who  officiated  as  cook. 


114  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    X. 

WHEN  Wilkins  entered  the  room,  lie  strode  directly  to  the 
fire,  and  held  his  hands  in  the  flame.  Cold,  stiff,  with  his 
uncombed  hair  hanging  loosely  about  his  face,  his  cheeks 
hollow,  and  his  eyes  sunken,  he  seemed  the  very  picture  of 
exhaustion.  It  had  been  a  weary  day  for  him.  The  whole 
of  the  previous  night  he  had  passed  without  sleep.  He  had 
paced  his  room  over  and  over  again ;  he  had  counted  every 
hour :  he  had  watched  the  dark  gloom  of  night  as  it  gra 
dually  mellowed  into  day,  and  then  the  golden  halo  of  morn 
ing  as  it  shot  up  in  the  east,  growing  richer  and  richer,  until 
the  bright  sun  came  flashing  over  the  house-tops.  Stragglers 
began  to  pass  his  window  in  the  early  gray  of  the  morning  ; 
then  they  became  more  numerous,  and  then  the  steady  tramp 
of  feet  told  him  that  the  day  was  begun,  and  that  the  thou 
sands  who  were  to  strive  and  struggle  for  bread  had  donned 
their  harness  for  the  labor :  yet,  like  one  in  a  dream,  the 
wretched  man  remained  in  his  room.  Strange  and  uncon 
nected  fancies  and  forms  and  figures  flitted  to  and  fro  in  his 
mind.  Iliggs,  his  wife,  the  attorney,  presented  themselves, 
sometimes  in  turn,  sometimes  together,  sometimes  whirling 
and  flitting  to  and  fro,  and  then  vanishing  as  in  a  mist.  But 
amid  all  was  a  vague,  indefinable  consciousness  that  there 
was  something  on  hand ;  a  strong  oppressive  feeling  that 
there  was  something  to  be  done  which  demanded  imme 
diate  action,  and  that  he  must  be  up  and  busy.  Still  it  was 
not  until  late  in  the  morning  that  he  went  out  into  the  street. 
The  cold  biting  air,  as  it  rushed  over  his  hot  forehead,  partly 


THE    ATTORNEY.  115 

brought  him  to  himself ;  but  no  sooner  had  he  locked  the 
door  of  his  house  than  he  fled  from  it  with  a  feeling  of  terror. 
An  indefinable  guilt,  a  secret  dread  of  he  knew  not  what, 
seemed  connected  with  it.  The  want  of  rest  and  mental 
anxiety  had  completely  unstrung  him,  and  he  obeyed  every 
wild  phantasy  of  his  brain  like  a  very  slave.  A  weary  day 
it  was.  He  wandered  from  street  to  street  in  a  kind  of  stupid 
bewilderment.  Wherever  he  saw  a  crowd  stopping  to  gaze, 
he  stopped  and  gazed  with  the  rest.  If  they  laughed,  he 
laughed  too,  and  then  loitered  on.  He  went  from  shop- 
window  to  shop-window,  looking  idly  in.  From  one  end  of 
the  city  to  the  other  he  wandered  that  day. 

He  stopped  once  near  a  bright  curly-headed  child,  who 
was  playing  in  the  street,  and  endeavored  to  coax  him  to 
him.  T\e  child  looked  up,  drew  back  from  the  wild  face 
that  endeavored  to  smile  on  him,  and  shrinking  farther  and 
farther  off,  until  he  reached  a  corner,  fairly  took  to  his  heels. 
Wilkins  muttered  something  to  himself,  and  went  listlessly 
on.  In  the  middle  of  the  day  he  was  hungry,  and  stopping 
at  a  baker's  shop,  he  bought  a  roll,  and  ate  it  at  the  counter 
with  a  ravenous  appetite.  He  threw  a  few  cents  to  the  baker, 
who  eyed  him  with  fear  and  suspicion,  and  felt  relieved  when 
he  was  gone.  Several  times  he  stopped  in  front  of  Bolton's 
office,  looked  up  at  the  gloomy  building,  and  counted  the 
windows  in  its  front,  and  thought  how  old  and  ruinous  it  was ; 
wondered  who  built  it ;  and  then  went  off  without  going  in. 
Several  times  he  went  to  the  corner  of  the  street  where  he 
lived,  and  stood  there,  and  watched  his  own  house ;  and  once 
he  went  to  the  window  and  looked  in ;  but  all  was  empty, 
and  whistling  carelessly,  he  went  away.  But  as  the  day 
waned,  this  unnatural  state  of  feeling  wore  off.  His  mind 
gradually  recovered  its  tone,  and  he  became  keenly  alive  to 
his  own  exhaustion.  The  cold  wind,  which  had  whistled 


116  THE    ATTORNEY. 

around  him  unheeded,  now  became  piercing:  it  stiffened 
every  joint,  and  seemed  eating  into  his  very  flesh.  His  own 
home  was  tenantless ;  and  with  little  thought  or  reflection, 
he  directed  his  steps  to  the  widow's,  where  he  entered  as 
before  mentioned. 

He  was  too  much  at  home,  and  Mrs.  Dow  too  much 
accustomed  to  him,  to  note  his  peculiarities.  But  that  night 
there  was  something  in  his  appearance  which  startled  her. 
He  shivered  as  he  drew  his  breath,  and  a  shudder  passed 
spasmodically  over  him,  as  he  began  to  feel  the  warmth  of 
the  fire.  From  head  to  foot,  flesh  and  bone  and  blood  were 
all  cold.  It  seemed  as  if  the  current  of  his  blood  were  con 
gealed,  and  flowed  through  his  veins  in  a  stream  of  ice. 

*  There  's  no  heat  in  that  fire,'  said  he,  as  he  stood  over  it. 
*  More  coal  —  more  coal !     The  night 's  horrible/ 

The  lady,  without  remark  at  the  rough  manner  of  her 
visitor,  heaped  the  fire  with  coal. 

'  There,  that 's  something  like,'  said  he,  gazing  with  child 
ish  satisfaction  at  the  huge  flame  that  hissed  and  roared  up 
the  chimney.  *  One  feels  that.' 

'Are  you  very  cold,  George  ? '  asked  Mrs.  Dow,  sympa 
thetically. 

'Ay,  ice  to  the  very  heart ;  all  is  ice,  all  except  Ji&rej  said 
he,  slapping  his  forehead  with  his  open  hand ;  '  that  's  on  fire  ! 
But  never  mind ;  here  I  am  at  last,  merry  as  ever,  and  gay 
as  a  lark.  I  am  gay,  widow,  a'n't  I ! '  said  he,  looking  full 
in  her  face. 

*  Oh !  Mr.  "Wilkins,'  replied  the  lady,  '  what  a  question ! 
You  know  you  are  gay  —  so  gay  ! ' 

'  Of  course  I  am,'  said  Wilkins  :  '  so  gay,'  continued  he, 
setting  his  teeth,  '  that  I  sometimes  catch  myself  laughing 
until  the  room  rings  and  rings.  God !  how  merry  I  am 
then ! '  And  a  scowl  swept  over  his  face,  as  if  a  demon 


THE    ATTORNEY.  117 

had  passed  and  his  shadow  fallen  upon  it.  '  But  come,'  said 
he,  flinging  himself  in  an  easy-chair  and  stretching  his  feet 
to  the  fire,  '  let's  drop  this  subject.  I  suppose  you  wondered 
where  I  was.  Perhaps  you  thought  I  was  dead,  drowned, 
or  had  killed  some  body,  or  something  of  that  kind  ? ' 

Mrs.  Dow  looked  slightly  confused,  and  then  admitted 
that  she  had  wondered  where  he  was,  a  great  deal,  a  very 
great  deal ;  but  she  really  did  not  think  that  he  had  killed 
any  body,  although  folks  did  do  such  things  now-a-days : 
but  she  did  n't  think  that  of  him.  Oh  no  !  But  she  had 
been  worried  about  him  ;  very  much  worried,  and  hoped  he 
had  not  been  ill,  for  he  looked  as  if  he  had. 

'  Yes,  I  have  been,'  said  Wilkins,  rising  and  taking  a  light 
from  the  mantel-piece,  and  holding  it  to  his  own  face. 
'  Do  n't  I  look  so  ?  It  was  a  fever,  and  that  soon  brings  a 
man  down.  It  eats  up  the  flesh,  drinks  the  blood,  and  leaves 
nothing  but  the  bone.  I  would  have  been  down  to  that,  if 
it  had  n't  gone  off  as  it  did.  I  'm  weak  enough  ;  a  child 
might  master  me  now.'  He  placed  the  light  on  the  table, 
and  sank  feebly  back  into  the  chair. 

'Poor  dear  !'  ejaculated  Mrs.  Dow  ;  'and  I  didn't  know 
it !  How  agitated  I  should  have  been  at  the  bare  thought ! ' 

'  Would  you,  widow  ? ' 

'  Would  I  ? '  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dow,  in  a  tone  which  was 
intended  to  indicate  to  all  intents  and  purposes  that  she  most 
certainly  would.  '  Would  I  ?  Oh,  George  !— Mr.  Wilkins,  I 
mean,'  and  Mrs.  Dow  colored  slightly  at  the  lapse  into  which 
the  ardor  of  her  feelings  had  led  her. 

'  Well,  I  believe  you,'  replied  Wilkins  feebly.  '  One  likes 
to  know  there  is  some  one  to  care  for  him.  This  feeling  of 

loneliness  is  d d  uncomfortable.  It  sometimes  almost 

chokes  one.  I've  had  it  often.' 

'  Oh  ! '  said  Mrs.  Dow,  raising  her  eyes  pathetically  to  the 


18  THE    ATTORNEY, 

profile  of  the  late  Mr.  Dow,  'it's  bad  enough.  I  can  feel 
for  you,  that  I  can.'  And  Mrs.  Dow  shook  her  head,  until 
the  small  ribbon  on  the  top  of  her  cap  quivered  like  an 
aspen.  'When  one  is  bereaved,  Mr.  Wilkins,  then  one 
knows  what  one  suffers ;  then  one  finds  out  what  bereave 
ment  is.'  And  again  Mrs.  Dow  shook  her  head,  and  threw 
a  tender  glance  at  the  profile  of  her  late  husband,  and  again 
the  small  ribbon  quivered. 

'  That 's  true,  very  true,'  said  Wilkins,  scarcely  heeding 
what  he  said  ;  for  a  feeling  of  drowsiness  was  stealing  over 
him.  There  was  a  rich  enjoyment  in  sitting  in  that  deep 
easy-chair,  with  the  warmth  of  the  fire  gradually  spreading 
through  his  frozen  frame  !  A  soft,  luxurious  languor  seemed 
creeping  over  him,  stealing  from  limb  to  limb,  wrapping 
itself  around  him,  and  warming  his  very  heart.  His  past 
troubles  and  suffering  passed  before  him  with  a  dreamy, 
shadowy  indistinctness.  The  thin  piping  voice  of  the  widow 
echoed  in  his  ears  with  a  lulling  sound.  He  heard  her  moral 
reflections  upon  the  virtues  and  resignation  of  the  late  Mr. 
Dow,  as  they  dripped  from  her  in  a  small,  incessant  and  pat 
tering  stream ;  but  his  mind  was  far,  far  away.  He  saw 
gorgeous  avenues  in  the  crumbling  fire ;  houses,  arcades, 
palaces,  cathedrals  ;  then  an  arch  gave  way,  then  a  column ; 
now  a  grove  of  trees  sank  down  —  down.  He  made  a  faint 
effort  to  do  something.  He  muttered  incoherently  in  reply 
to  the  widow  ;  his  head  fell  back  in  the  chair,  and  he  sank 
into  the  deep,  death-like  and  dreamless  sleep  of  complete 
exhaustion. 

When  Mrs.  Dow  saw  that  he  was  sound  asleep,  she  forbore 
to  talk ;  and  sat  watching  his  haggard  countenance  with  a 
look  of  deep  concern.  She  stirred  the  fire  cautiously,  so  as 
to  keep  it  bright,  without  disturbing  him  :  and  she  moved 
the  light  so  that  it  might  not  flash  in  his  eyes  and  awaken 
him. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  119 

The  sleep  of  the  exhausted  man  was  almost  as  profound 
as  the  never-ending  rest  of  the  dead.  Not  a  limb  moved, 
not  a  muscle.  There  lay  his  hollow  and  sunken  face,  as  if 
cut  from  marble  —  the  light  of  the  bright  flame  playing 
and  flickering  over  it,  and  giving  a  strange  uncertain  ex 
pression  to  its  very  wildness.  The  strong  man  had  wrestled 
boldly  with-  his  fierce  passions.  There  had  been  a  bitter 
struggle  between  body  and  soul ;  but  flesh  and  blood  had 
given  out  at  last,  dragging  all  his  energies  with  them. 

Long,  long  did  he  sleep ;  and  patiently  did  Mrs.  Dow 
watch  at  his  side.  When  he  awoke  he  was  an  altered  man ; 
refreshed  in  body,  and  with  his  energies  restored  to  their 
former  vigor.  Once  more  he  was  resolved,  hardened,  and 
unrelenting ;  with  one  fell  purpose  in  view,  and  with  a  stem 
determination  to  carry  it  out  at  all  hazards. 

The  widow  had  not  been  unmindful  of  his  other  wants 
during  his  sleep ;  and  when  he  awoke  he  found  a  table 
spread,  and  a  large  joint  of  cold  meat  on  it,  and  a  tea-kettle 
steaming  away  at  its  side. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  acceptable  to  Wiikins  than 
this  sight.  Saying  little,  he  drew  a  chair  to  the  table  and  ate 
voraciously.  For  three  days  his  body  had  been  the  slave  of 
his  passions ;  but  his  physical  nature  was  resuming  its  sway ; 
and  now  he  devoured  what  was  placed  before  him  like  a 
famished  beast.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  habits  of 
economy  with  which  Mrs.  Dow  habitually  amused  herself, 
there  was  no  stint  now ;  for  with  all  her  foibles  and  weak 
ness,  that  savage  man  had  really  found  a  tender  spot  in  her 
time-warped  heart. 

At  last  he  threw  himself  back  in  the  chair.  'Ah  !  widow,' 
said  he,  'you  know  what's  good  for  a  sick  man.  When  the 
illness  is  oft',  then  comes  hunger.  It  makes  one  ravenous. 
I  could  almost  eat  you,  widow.' 


120  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  Lor  !  how  you  talk ! '  exclaimed  the  lady,  moving  rest 
lessly  in  her  chair,  and  assuming  that  orange  tint  which  in 
widows  of  bilious  temperaments  passes  for  a  blush.  'You 
do  n't  mean  it.  I  know  you  do  n't.'  And  the  lady  had  every 
reason  to  believe  what  she  asserted ;  for  she  \vould  certainly 
have  made  an  exceedingly  tough  mouthful. 

'  But  I  do?  replied  Wilkins,  for  the  first  time  in  the  course 
of  the  evening  casting  at  the  relict  of  the  late  Mr.  Dow  one 
of  those  insinuating  glances  which  had  heretofore  been  so 
successful  in  worming  their  way  into  her  heart. 

Mrs.  Dow  turned  away  her  head,  and  looked  into  a  small 
tea-cup  with  an  air  of  the  most  desperate  unconcern ;  though 
it  might  have  been  remarked  that  the  small  ribbon  on  the 
top  of  her  cap  was  unusually  tremulous. 

'And  you  are  so  snug  here ! '  continued  he,  looking  about 
the  room  ;  '  very  snug.  Ah,  widow  !  Mr.  Dow  was  a  happy 
man  !  He  must  have  been.' 

'Ah  !  George  —  I  mean  Mr.  Wilkins  !'  And  the  widow 
paused  ;  and  again  her  complexion  assumed  an  orange  tint, 
at  the  idea  of  her  being  alone  with  a  strange  man,  and  ad 
dressing  him  by  his  Christian  name. 

'  Call  me  George  ;  do  call  me  George ! '  said  Wilkins  ;  '  I 
shall  take  it  so  kind  in  you.' 

'  Well,  then,  if  you  really  wish  it ; '  and  again  Mrs.  Dow 
paused  to  reflect,  before  committing  herself  upon  so  serious 
a  point.  She  being  a  widow  and  Wilkins  a  single  man,  it 
was  a  matter  requiring  some  consideration. 

'  To  be  sure  I  do,'  said  Wilkins,  earnestly.  '  If  we  can 't 
be  familiar,  who  can  ?  If  we  are  not  married,  we  soon  shall 
be ;  as  soon  as  this  cursed  business  of  mine  is  done  for.' 

'Ah !  you  men  have  so  many  troubles,'  said  Mrs.  Dow, 
drawing  a  sigh  so  long  that  it  seemed  to  come  from  her  very 
toes,  '  and  so  much  to  do,  and  so  many  secrets  !  It  is  n't 


THE    ATTORNEY.  121 

right,  Mr.  Wilkins  —  George,  I  mean  ;  it  is  n't  right.  Now 
who  would  have  thought  it !  —  even  /  have  never  been 
able  to  find  out  what  this  business  is,  nor  when  it  is  to  be 
ended.' 

'  It 's  in  law,'  said  Wilkins,  '  and  you  know  what  law  is. 
If  you  do  n't,  you  're  lucky.  One  can  never  tell  how  a  law 
suit  will  end.  If  I  succeed,  why  then,  widow,  in  two  days 
you  will  be  Mrs.  Wilkins.' 

Mrs.  Dow  shook  her  head  despondingly,  as  she  said :  *  But 
suppose  you  fail  ? ' 

'  I  won't  suppose  it ! '  said  Wilkins,  earnestly ;  '  I  won't 
suppose  it :  but  if  I  do,'  continued  he,  drawing  in  his  breath, 
and  forgetting  to  whom  he  was  speaking,  his  black  eye  flash 
ing,  '  let  her  look  to  herself !  She  '11  rue  it,  by  G-d ! ' 

''She ! '  exclaimed  the  widow,  nervously  ;  *  she  I  Mr. 
Wilkins,  is  it  a  she  !  Who  is  she  ?  Oh  !  I  am  so  agitated ! ' 
This  was  doubtless  true,  for  otherwise  the  lady  would  not 
have  poured  the  boiling  water  from  the  tea-kettle  on  the 
smallest  finger  of  her  left  hand,  which  she  did.  This  slight 
incident  aided  her  in  regaining  her  composure,  and  also  re 
called  Wilkins  to  himself.  He  replied  rather  doggedly  : 

'  Well,  this  business  is  a  law-suit.  A  woman  is  opposed 
to  me  in  it.  If  she  succeeds,  I  'm  a  ruined  man.  If  she 
do  n't,  why  then,'  said  he,  sinking  his  voice  and  casting  a 
tender  glance  at  the  lady,  'Mrs.  Dow  may  become  Mrs. 
Wilkins.  That 's  the  whole  of  it.' 

'  Is  that  all  ?  Ah  ! '  said  Mrs.  Dow,  working  her  way 
through  a  crowd  of  small  palpitations,  previous  to  becoming 
composed,  ' ah  !  I'm  so  excitable  !  I'm  better  now — much 
better.  But  it  was  a  tender  subject ;  and  I  really  believe, 
George,  that  I  am  a  little  jealous ;  the  smallest  morsel  in  the 
world,  'tis  true,  but  still  jealous.  I  never  had  any  thing  to 
iwaken  the  feeling  during  the  life-time  of  the  late  Mr.  Dow. 
6 


122  THE    ATTORNEY. 

I  never  was  jealous  of  him  ;  not  for  the  tenth  part  of  a  sin 
gle  second.' 

'  I  suppose  not,'  said  Wilkins,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  por 
tentous  shirt-ruffle  of  that  gentleman's  profile.  *  You  had 
no  reason  to  be.' 

4  No,  never,'  said  the  widow,  mournfully  ;  '  he  was  such  a 
man ;  such  a  husband  !  Oh !  George,  I  hope  you  '11  resem 
ble  him !  But  I  'm  afraid  you  won't.'  Which  last  fear  was 
a  very  reasonable  one  ;  for  Mr.  D.  having  been  a  short,  fat 
man,  with  blue  eyes  and  red  hair,  and  Mr.  "Wilkins  being  a 
tall,  gaunt  one,  with  both  hair  and  eyes  coal-black,  there  was 
every  likelihood  of  her  fears  being  realized. 

*  Well,  I  'm  glad  he 's  dead  ! '  said  Wilkins,  rising. 

'Mis-ter  Wilkins  ! '  exclaimed  the  lady,  starting  from  her 
chair  in  absolute  horror. 

'  So  I  am,'  repeated  Wilkins.  '  If  he  was  n't,  you  could  n't 
be  Mrs.  Wilkins.  But  I  must  be  off.  It's  late,  and  I  have 
much  to  do  to-night.  But  before  I  go'  —  He  finished  the 
sentence  by  throwing  an  arm  around  the  widow's  neck,  and 
giving  her  a  hearty  smack.  Widows  generally  resist  impro 
prieties  of  any  kind  ;  and  it  is  probable  that  Mrs.  Dow  would 
have  been  governed  in  this  matter  by  old-established  prece 
dent.  But  the  consummation  took  place  so  rapidly  that  she 
had  not  time  to  rally  her  energies  before  she  found  herself  a 
kissed  woman.  Some  rooms  have  very  singular  echoes. 
The  echo  to  that  chaste  salute  was  a  deep  groan,  which 
seemed  to  proceed  from  the  key-hole  of  the  door  opening 
in  the  entry.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  escaped  the  attention  of 
both  .parties  concerned  ;  and  as  the  salute  was  not  repeated 
before  WTilkins  left  the  house,  of  course  there  was  no  likeli 
hood  that  the  echo  would  be. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  123 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE  opportunity  which  the  attorney  had  been  seeking  for 
years  was  at  length  come.  It  was  strange  that  one  so  no 
toriously  infamous  could  have  gained  an  ascendency  over  a 
man  like  Mr.  Crawford,  or  continued  in  a  course  of  hypocrisy 
and  deception  so  long  without  detection.  Often  had  he  been 
placed  in  situations  where  he  trembled  lest  his  character 
should  be  unmasked,  and  his  schemes  frustrated;  but  "he 
did  escape.  The  rumors  in  circulation  against  him  were 
whispered  in  the  old  man's  ears  ;  but  he  shook  his  head, 
said  that  he  knew  him  well ;  had  seen  nothing  to  give  color 
to'  such  tales  ;  that  they  were  vile  slanders,  and  that  he  did 
not  believe  them. 

In  truth,  to  strong  natural  sense  and  great  purity  of  cha 
racter,  Mr.  Crawford  united  a  heart  as  guileless  as  that  of  a 
child.  The  very  rumors  that  kept  others  off,  drew  him 
nearer  to  the  attorney.  His  indignation  was  aroused  at  what 
he  considered  an  unjust  persecution,  and  strong  in  his  own 
rectitude,  he  determined,'  as  far  as  his  influence  would  go,  to 
let  the  world  see  that  he  was  not  biased  by  it.  His  friends 
at  last  ceased  to  remonstrate,  but  shook  their  heads,  and  said 
that  he  would  pay  for  it  some  day. 

There  was  one  person,  however,  on  whom  these  reports 
had  their  effect,  and  that  was  Mr.  Crawford's  daughter  ;  but 
in  vain  she  urged  her  father  to  inquire  about  the  lawyer,  to 
trace  these  tales  to  their  source,  and  to  ascertain  their  truth. 
He  merely  laughed ;  told  her  that  she  was  a  good  girl ;  that 
he  was  sorry  she  did  n't  like  the  lawyer,  and  there  the  matter 


124  THE    ATTORNEY. 

dropped ;  and  thus  it  remained  until  his  sudden  aiid  viuu^, 
ous  illness  afforded  the  opportunity  which  Bolton  had  so  long 
waited  for,  and  of  which  he  did  not  scruple  to  avail  himself. 

When  he  made  his  appearance  at  his  office  on  the  morn 
ing  after  his  interview  with  Higgs  and  Wilkins,  he  was  so 
pale,  his  face  so  ghastly,  and  his  eye  so  black  and  bright, 
that  it  struck  even  his  clerk — a  young  gentleman  not 
usually  struck  with  any  thing  appertaining  to  the  office. 

During  the  whole  of  that  long  night  his  mind  had  been 
on  the  rack.  His  brain  was  teeming  with  cases  similar  to 
his  own,  with  stories  of  those  defrauded  by  designing  rela 
tives  ;  of  old  men  sent  to  mad-houses  while  they  had  their 
senses,  and  shut  up  with  gibbering  idiots,  and  men  stark, 
raving  mad  ;  lying  on  straw  in  damp  cells,  while  their 
relatives  seized  all  that  they  had  and  lived  in  luxury  ;  of 
those  stripped  of  their  property  by  artful  men  whom  they 
had  trusted,  who  had  wormed  themselves  into  their  confidence, 
and,  then  sent  them  into  the  world  —  beggars.  Hundreds 
of  tales  of  this  sort  sprang  up  in  his  memory  so  fast  and  yet 
so  vividly,  that  he  wondered  where  he  had  heard  them  all. 
He  recollected  too  that  in  the  most  of  these  cases  the  truth 
had  worked  out  at  last ;  those  wronged  had  regained  their 
own,  and  the  wrong-doer  had  met  his  meed.  He  had  en 
deavored  to  sleep,  but  his  slumber  was  the  continuation  of 
his  waking  thoughts ;  and  when  he  awoke  it  was  still  the 
same.  He  left  his  house  and  went  to  his  office,  and  endeav 
ored  to  attend  to  business  ;  but  he  could  not.  Persons  came 
to  him  seeking  advice,  or  to  inquire  concerning  law-suits 
which  he  had  in  his  hands.  Some  he  answered  so  abruptly 
that  they  left  his  doors,  never  to  enter  them  again  ;  others, 
struck  by  his  abstracted,  anxious  look,  supposed  that  some 
heavy  trouble  had  overtaken  him,  and  went  off;  and  many 
he  refused  to  see.  He  remained  several  hours  with  the  door 


THE    ATTORNEY.  125 

locked,  admitting  none :  then  he  suddenly  started  up,  put 
on  his  hat,  went  out,  and  hurried  through  the  streets  until 
exhausted,  and  returning  to  his  office,  shut  himself  in,  and 
remained  there  until  late  in  the  day.  But  notwithstanding 
his  bodily  restlessness,  there  was  no  irresolution.  His  course 
was  traced  out  clearly,  decidedly,  step  by  step.  He  formed 
plans  to  defend  every  part  of  his  proceedings.  Old  musty 
law-books  were  drawn  from  their  hiding-places  ;  the  law  of 
Wills  was  studied  over  with  the  most  anxious  care  ;  its  various 
changes  and  modifications  were  noted,  and  books  of  refer 
ence,  reports,  old  and  modern,  were  examined.  Yet  the  Will 
was  a  clear  one.  It  was  a  plain,  simple  devise  of  his  whole  pro 
perty  to  his  old  friend  Reuben  Bolton,  appointing  him  his  sole 
executor,  mentioning  his  daughter  indeed  in  terms  of  affec 
tion,  but  also  speaking  of  her  as  illegitimate,  and  leaving  her 
nothing.  There  was  nothing  in  theWill  either  abstruse  or  com 
plex  ;  nothing  to  hang  a  doubt  upon ;  yet  the  attorney  pored 
over  and  over  it,  as  if  all  that  was  tangled  and  intricate  in  the 
web  of  the  law  were  concentrated  in  that  paper.  He  doubted 
on  points  of  law,  where  he  had  never  doubted  before.  He 
examined  and  reexamined  even  the  attestation  clause ;  com 
pared  it  with  the  statute ;  suggested  difficulties  and  obstacles 
which  were  perfectly  puerile,  and  which,  in  any  other  state 
of  mind,  he  would  never  have  dreamed  of.  There  was 
scarcely  a  doubt  that  he  had  not  raised,  and  was  not  pre 
pared  to  meet.  One  thing  only  was  wanting,  and  that  was 
the  death  of  Mr.  Crawford.  The  lawyer  haunted  the  house 
of  the  sick  man  like  a  spirit  of  evil.  From  morning  till 
night,  at  all  hours,  he  was  there  :  sometimes  in  the  drawing- 
room,  sometimes  stopping  to  inquire  about  him  of  the  ser 
vants,  and  sometimes  prowling  at  his  very  bed-side.  The 
old  man  lingered  for  a  long  time ;  but  he  died  at  last. 


126  THE    ATTORNEY 

It  was  a  quaint,  old-fashioned  room  in  which  he  lay  — 
unlike  the  rest  of  the  house  —  with  low  ceilings,  and  filled 
with  rich,  luxurious,  but  antiquated  furniture ;  for  he  had  a 
curious  taste  in  such  matters,  and  the  walls  were  painted 
with  grotesque  and  strange  figures,  engaged  in  some  heathen 
ceremonial.  Heavy  curtains  of  a  dark  color  hung  from  the 
bedstead,  and  from  the  windows,  sweeping  the  floor.  About 
the  room  were  chairs  of  massive  wood,  elaborately  carved, 
which  he  had  collected  with  much  trouble  and  expense; 
shelves,  and  book-cases  too,  with  rare  old  volumes  and  folios, 
whose  writers  had  long  since  slept  with  the  earth-worm. 
The  whole  house  had  been  furnished  to  suit  his  daughter, 
with  the  exception  of  this  single  room ;  but  here  he  had 
indulged  his  own  taste  for  the  fantastic.  By  degrees;,  he  had 
collected  these  costly  and  rare  articles.  And  now,  in  that 
dark  old  room,  with  all  this  mystic  collection  about  him, 
his  life  was  ebbing. 

His  daughter  was  watching  at  his  bed-side.  She  knew 
that  he  must  die.  But  hope  wells  up  from  the  bottom  of  the 
heart,  in  spite  of  obstacles.  She  hoped  that  the  filmy  eye 
would  again  brighten ;  and  that  the  labored  breath  would 
again  subside  into  the  calm,  regular  respiration  of  natural 
sleep.  How  sad  and  dreary  it  was  to  sit  there  hour  after 
hour,  hearing  nothing  but  that  loud  panting  breath,  with 
nothing  to  break  the  stillness  except  the  low  ticking  of  the 
watch,  as  it  whispered  its  warning  of  time's  flight  in  her  ear ; 
and  the  occasional,  far-off  sound  of  the  church-clock,  which 
seemed  like  a  solemn  summons  to  the  grave !  How  anx 
iously  did  that  poor  girl  watch  for  one  look  of  recognition, 
or  some  little  mark  of  kindness  from  one  who  had  loved  her 
as  none  would  ever  love  her  again  !  How  often  did  she  press 
the  hand  that  lay  near  her  own,  motionless  and  icy  cold ! 


THE    ATTORNEY.  127 

But  the  pressure  was  not  returned  ;  and  the  face  which  once 
would  have  brightened  at  the  slightest  token  of  affection 
from  her,  remained  rigid  and  fixed. 

It  was  late  at  night,  and  all  was  quiet,  when  the  old  man 
suddenly  stretched  out  his  hand,  as  if  groping  for  some 
thing. 

'  Helen,  my  child  ! '  he  muttered. 

The  girl  rose  hastily,  took  his  hand  between  her  own,  and 
bent  over  him. 

*  I  want  Helen,'  muttered  he,  in  the  same  indistinct  tone ; 
and  looking  in  her  face  with  a  piteous  expression,  which  made 
the  tears  gush  from  her  eyes.  '  I  want  my  dear  little  girl, 
Helen.' 

'  I  am  here,  father,'  said  she. 

The  old  man  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  her,  drew  her 
closer  to  him  ;  then  shook  his  head,  smiled  vacantly,  and 
laid  his  cheek  on  the  pillow,  with  an  expression  of  patience 
and  disappointment  that  made  her  very  heart  ache.  He 
uttered  something  in  a  low  tone,  which  she  could  not  under 
stand.  At  times  he  spoke  of  green  fields ;  of  boys  in  their 
play-grounds.  She  heard  him  murmuring  the  names  of  old 
gray-haired  men,  who  had  gone  to  their  graves  long  years 
before  ;  and  speaking  to  them  as  if  they  were  children  about 
him.  Then  he  muttered  on,  sometimes  of  one  thing,  some 
times  of  another  ;  but  always  in  a  happy,  cheerful  vein  ;  and 
sometimes  he  laughed ;  a  gay,  joyous,  ringing  laugh ;  one 
that  might  have  burst  from  the  lips  of  a  young  child  ;  but 
oh  !  how  sad  from  those  of  a  dying  old  man !  By  degrees, 
however,  the  straggling  rays  of  intellect  seemed  to  concen 
trate  ;  he  spoke  of  more  recent  occurrences ;  then  he  raised 
himself  in  the  bed,  and  pushed  the  hair  back  from  his  face. 

'  Helen,'  said  her  in  a  strong,  clear  voice,  '  is  that  you  2 ' 

His  daughter  only  pressed  his  hand. 


128  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  You  're  a  good  girl ;  God  bless  you  !  I  'm  going,  Helen, 
and  I  Ve  much  to  tell  you.'  lie  paused.  The  cloud  which 
had  for  a  moment  been  lifted,  again  obscured  his  mind,  and 
he  sank  back  on  his  pillow.  The  look  of  intelligence  which 
had  brightened  his  face  disappeared,  and  was  succeeded  by 
a  blank,  idiotic  stare.  Hour  after  hour  his  daughter  con 
tinued  to  watch,  until  late  in  the  night,  when,  suddenly,  the 
respiration  of  the  sick  man  became  deeper  and  more  labored ; 
then  came  one  long,  rattling,  gurgling  breath.  His  daughter 
rose,  and  bent  over  him  :  another  deep,  deep  breath  came ; 
a  pause ;  then  one  sharp,  convulsive,  quivering  gasp ;  his 
head  fell  back  ;  and  all  was  over. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  129 


CHAPTER    XII. 

AT  about  ten  o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  a  short 
man,  dressed  in  black,  with  a  crape  on  his  hat,  walked 
gravely  up  the  steps  of  the  house,  and  rang  the  bell. 

1 1  'm  come  to  measure  the  old  gentleman,'  said  he,  in  a 
sombre  tone,  as  the  red-eared  servant  opened  the  door. 

*  You  're  late  in  the  day,  my  old  feller,'  replied  the  servant, 
looking  from  behind  the  door ;  *  the  old  gentleman 's  off;  he 
won't  wear  clothes  again.' 

'  But  he  will  a  coffin,'  replied  the  man  in  black,  *  and  that's 
what  I  'm  come  for.' 

*  Oh  ! '  exclaimed  the  servant,  opening  the  door  so  as  to 
admit  him  ;  *  you  're  the  undertaker,  are  you  ? ' 

The  man  in  black  nodded,  walked  into  the  entry,  took  his 
hat  off,  brushed  it  with  his  sleeve,  and  laid  it  on  a  chair. 

'  Did  he  die  easy  ? '  inquired  he,  looking  sadly  at  the  man, 
who  eyed  him  with  respectful  awe,  and  was  at  that  moment 
engaged  in  an  interesting  calculation  of  how  many  gentle 
men  that  same  undertaker  had  measured  in  the  course  of  the 
last  year.  '  Did  he  die  easy  2 ' 

'  Oh  !  very  easy,  Sir,  very  easy,'  replied  the  servant.  He 
went  off  a'most  without  knowing  it  hisself.' 

'  That  must  be  a  great  comfort  to  his  friends,  a  very  great 
comfort.' 

*  It  was,  Sir,  a  very  great  one.     It  makes  'em  all  feel  un 
common  comfortable.'     As  he  spoke,  he  passed  his  hand 
gently  over  his  stomach,  as  if  something  there  also  contri 
buted  in  no  small  degree  to  his  own  state  of  complacency. 

6* 


130  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  They  don't  all  go  off  so,  Sir,'  said  the  undertaker  solemnly. 
*  I  Ve  heerd  tell  of  scenes  that  would  curdle  the  blood,  Sir ; 
freeze  the  limbs,  Sir ;  make  the  heart  stand  still,  and  all  that 
sort  o'  thing,  Sir.  Them  people  always  shrink ;  their  spirits 
shrink  afore  they  go,  and  their  bodies  shrink  afterwards. 
Most  people  stretches  when  they  die  ;  but  they  shrink.  There 
was  an  elderly  lady  I  measured  last  week  what  died  in  that 
very  way.  She  went  off  desperate.  She  fit  all  her  poor 
relations ;  tore  down  the  bed-curtains,  and  finally  expired  in 
the  act  of  biting  off  her  own  heel.  Well,  Sir,  she  was  one 
of  them  that  shrink.  A  ready-made  coffin  was  ordered,  and 
I  measured  her  shortly  arterwards.  She  was  a  five-foot-sixer. 
I  went  to  the  shop ;  no  five-foot-sixers  were  ready.  I  re 
turned  and  measured  her  again  ;  she  had  shrunk,  so  that  she 
fitted  in  a  five-foot-fourer,  which  we  had  on  hand,  as  snug  as 
a  pea  in  its  pod.  There 's  evidence  for  you ;  the  evidence  of 
one's  own  senses  ! ' 

The  red-eared  servant  drew  in  his  breath  heavily. 

'  Gentlemen  of  our  profession  see  strange  sights,  Sir,'  con 
tinued  the  undertaker,  growing  mysterious,  and  sinking  his 
voice.  '  I  '11  tell  you  one.  This  is  in  confidence,  you  know,' 
said  he,  looking  earnestly  into  the  two  opaque  globes,  which 
appeared  anxious  to  start  from  their  owner's  head  into  his 
own. 

The  servant  nodded. 

'Well,  Sir,  there  was  one  man,  an  old  man,  a  little  fleshy, 
something  like  myself,'  said  he,  looking  with  some  compla 
cency  at  his  own  little  apple  belly,  '  but  rich,  Sir,  rich  as  — 
as  —  as  any  body  ;  a  pious  man  too,  Sir,  quite  pious ;  went 
to  church  reg'lar,  sung  loud,  put  money  in  the  plate,  Sir,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing ;  but  he  had  the  blessedest  long  nose  I 
ever  did  see.  Well,  he  died  on  a  suddent  one  day,  and  his 
nevvy,  who  was  to  get  his  cash,  was  desperate  to  get  him 


THE    ATTORNEY.  131 

under  ground,  for  fear  he  would  n't  keep,  he  said  ;  keep  dead, 
I  s'pected.'  Here  the  undertaker  paused,  and  looked  darkly 
into  the  eyes  of  the  servant,  and  sunk  his  voice.  '  He'  or 
dered  a  coffin  to  be  ready  in  twenty  minutes.  In  twenty 
minutes  I  was  there,  and  so  was  the  coffin.  "We  put  him  in 
it ;  but  when  we  went  to  fasten  on  the  lid,  up  stuck  that  nose, 

two  inches  above  it.     The  nevvy  clenched  his  teeth .' 

' '  The  lid  won't  go  on,'  said  I. 
1 '  It  must ! '  said  he. 
1 '  But  it  won't ;  the  nose  won't  let  it.' 
"  I)  —  n  the  nose  ! '  said  he,  shaking  his  fist  at  the  old  gen 
tleman  ;  '  flatten  it  —  smash  it.' 

* '  It  would  be  disrespectful  to  the  departed,'  said  I. 
* '  Then  bore  a  hole  in  the  lid  and  let  it  stick  out ;  he  must 
be  buried  to-day.' 

*  Well,  Sir,  we  did  bore  a  hole  in  the  lid,  and  the  nose  did 
stick  out ;  and  he  was  buried  in  that  way.  Well,  Sir,'  con 
tinued  he,  looking  cautiously  about  him,  '  ten  years  arter- 
wards  I  buried  a  young  woman  in  that  same  vault,  and  I 
thought  I  'd  look  at  the  old  gentleman's  coffin.  I  did,  Sir. 
The  hole  was  there,  but  the  nose  was  gone ;  GONE  ! '  And 
the  undertaker  now  looked  horrified. 

'  They  say  bodies  moulders  in  the  tomb,'  suggested  the  ser 
vant ;  '  perhaps  noses  moulders  too.' 

The  undertaker  cast  a  contemptuous  glance  at  the  unso 
phisticated  man  before  him,  and  then  answered : 

'  No,  Sir,  no,  Sir.  He  was  buried  alive ;  and  as  soon  as 
he  was  left  in  that  vault,  and  smelt  its  dampness,  he  pulled 
in  his  nose  for  fear  he'd  catch  cold.  This  was  the  way  of  it ; 
and  he  must  'a'  died  in  fits,  spasms,  despair,  horror,  clenched 
teeth,  and  all  that  sort  o'  thing ! ' 

'  Perhaps  he  was  smuddered  there,'  suggested  the  listener. 


132  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  It  could  n't  'a'  been,'  replied  tlie  undertaker  ;  '  that  there 
hole  was  a  wentilator.' 

{ Oh !  it  was,  was  it  ?  Well,  you  know,'  said  the  man, 
half  apologetically,  '  I,  not  being  in  the  coffin  line,  could  n't 
know  that.' 

'  Of  course  not,  of  course  not.'  The  man  in  black  then 
thrust  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  drew  out  a  rule,  which  he 
deliberately  unfolded  and  put  under  his  arm. 

'  Business  brisk  ? '  inquired  the  servant,  apparently  desi 
rous  of  edging  off  from  a  subject  in  which  he  found  himself 
beyond  his  depth. 

'  Mournfully  brisk,  Sir,  mourn-ful-ly  brisk,'  replied  the 
undertaker,  shaking  his  head,  and  again  thrusting  his  hand 
in  his  pocket,  from  which,  after  a  great  jingling  among  keys 
and  small  coins,  he  drew  out  a  penknife,  and  carefully  passed 
its  point  under  his  finger-nails,  which  also  were  apparently 
in  deep  mourning.  '  Scarlet  fever  is  very  prevalent  among 
children,  and  there  's  a  great  demand  for  four-footers.  But 
come,  let 's  attend  to  the  old  gentleman.' 

So  saying,  he  shut  his  knife,  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and  made 
a  gesture  to  the  servant  to  lead  the  way.  In  a  few  minutes 
they  returned.  The  undertaker  took  up  his  hat,  contem 
plated  the  crape  seriously,  then  opened  the  front  door,  and 
walked  sadly  toward  his  workshop,  meditating  on  the  uncer 
tainty  of  human  life,  and  a  sudden  rise  which  had  lately 
taken  place  in  the  price  of  mahogany. 

The  afternoon  of  the  old  man's  funeral  was  a  dreary  one. 
The  weather  was  wet  and  heavy.  The  rain  came  down  in 
torrents.  Sadness  and  silence  brooded  over  the  house  where 
Death  had  been  busy.  The  cold  unearthly  chill  of  the 
grave  had  stolen  from  its  home  in  the  church-vault,  to  claim 
the  dead  before  its  time.  The  servants  moved  about  with 


THE    ATTORNEY.  133 

stealthy  steps.  Conversations  were  carried  on  below  the 
breath  ;  all  was  subdued,  still,  dream-like.  At  last  the  un 
dertaker  came,  and  two  or  three  men  with  him.  He  held 
whispered  consultations  with  those  who  had  charge  of 
arranging  the  funeral.  His  was  the  only  hurried  step  ;  for 
it  was  an  every-day  business  with  him ;  and  he  was  only 
anxious  that  the  dead  should  be  so  treated  as  to  bring  more 
custom  to  his  shop.  His  manner  broke  the  trance  of  the 
whole  household.  There  began  to  be  a  slight  bustle ;  his 
name  was  called  loudly  by  those  who  wanted  his  opinion 
on  various  matters  of  funeral  etiquette;  a  long  consul 
tation  took  place  near  the  door  of  Miss  Crawford's  room ; 
then  there  was  a  laugh  suddenly  cut  short  for  fear  it 
might  reach  her  ear.  Presently  she  heard  heavy  steps 
ascending  the  stairs  to  the  room  over  hers,  where  the  corpse 
lay,  and  several  voices  speaking,  and  giving  directions.  The 
short,  irregular,  struggling  tread,  and  abrupt,  quick  orders, 
told  her  that  they  were  moving  the  body.  Then  followed  a 
tramping  of  feet  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  a  rattling  of 
the  railings ;  then  a  thump  against  the  wall. 

'  Take  care,  Bill ! '  exclaimed  the  undertaker ;  '  don't  let  it 
slip  !  Gently  now,  gently  ;  h'ist  the  feet  over  the  railing  : 
that 's  it.  Can  you  and  Ned  hold  it  till  I  get  under  the  head  ? ' 

*  I  think  so,'  responded  a  gruff  voice ;  '  but  be  quick ! 
He 's  devilish  heavy.' 

'  Spry  's  the  word,'  replied  the  other ;  '  but  do  'nt  speak  so 
loud  ;  we  're  near  the  young  lady's  room,  and  she  takes  it 
hard,  I  'm  told.  There,  come  on  ;  let  it  come.  That 's  it.' 

The  steps  now  approached  the  room  and  passed  the  door, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  body  was  deposited  in  the  passage. 
A  dead  silence  ensued,  broken  only  by  the  pattering  of  the 
rain  on  the  window-panes.  Presently  a  carriage  drove  up, 
then  another  and  another,  and  persons  were  heard  in  the 


134  THE    ATTORNEY. 

entry  below,  shaking  their  umbrellas,  and  stamping  the  wet 
from  their  feet.  The  coachmen  in  the  street  shouted  and 
called  to  each  other.  One  said  something  about  a  pleasant 
ride  for  the  old  gentleman,  and  then  there  was  a  loud  laugh. 

Helen  heard  all  this,  but  it  made  no  impression  on  her 
mind.  The  voices,  the  steps  of  the  gathering  friends,  all 
sounded  in  her  ears  with  fearful  distinctness,  but  every  sense 
except  that  of  hearing  seemed  lost. 

At  last  all  was  silent.  Then  there  was  a  heavy  tramp  in  the 
room  beneath,  as  of  a  moving  multitude  :  the  loud  voice  of 
the  undertaker  was  heard  calling  to  the  hearse  to  drive  on. 
Then  came  the  cracking  of  whips  and  the  noise  of  wheels  • 
and  the  owner  of  that  house  had  left  it  for  ever. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  135 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

AT  about  dusk  on  the  second  evening  after  the  death  of 
Mr.  Crawford,  the  attorney  sat  in  his  office  with  his  arms 
folded,  his  feet  thrust-  near  the  fire,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ceiling.  '  A  single  candle  was  burning  on  a  table  near  him, 
with  a  dull,  heavy  light,  throwing  all  sorts  of  fantastic 
shadows  and  shapes  on  the  wall.  Light  it  scarcely  afforded ; 
for  in  the  remote  parts  of  the  room  was  an  uncertain  kind 
of  mistiness,  through  which  every  thing  appeared  strange 
and  ghost-like.  The  outer  office  was  even  more  gloomy 
than  the  other;  being  a  kind  of  receptacle  for  old  coats, 
shelves  filled  with  useless  papers,  book-cases  tumbling  to 
pieces  from  age  and  neglect,  and  desks  in  various  stages 
of  decrepitude.  It  was  full  of  odd  angles  and  shadowy 
corners  :  the  very  place  for  dim  figures  to  step  suddenly  out 
into  the  room  :  and  with  the  sound  of  the  wind,  as  it  whispered 
and  wailed  through  the  loop-holes  and  crannies  of  the  old 
house,  it  was  enough  to  conjure  up  all  sorts  of  dreary  and 
mystic  feelings. 

Among  this  array  of  ruined  and  cast-off  furniture  sat  the 
attorney's  clerk;  a  gaunt,  thin-legged  boy,  with  red  hair, 
hollow  eyes,  large  knee-joints,  feet  modelled  after  fire-shovels, 
and  hands  to  match.  He  wore  a  round  jacket  of  snuff-colored 
cloth  extending  a  few  inches  below  his  arm-pits,  and  trousers 
of  the  same  material,  reaching  a  few  inches  above  his  hip 
bones.  The  coat  and  trousers  had  once  met,  but  the  boy 
had  lately  taken  it  into  his  head  to  grow,  and  his  shoulders, 
in  increasing  the  distance  between  themselves  and  his  hips, 


136  TEE    ATTORNEY. 

had  carried  the  jacket  with  them.  It  is  a  matter  of  some 
doubt  whether  the  boy's  legs  grew  or  not ;  if  they  did,  it  was 
downward ;  for  they  only  increased  the  gap  between  the 
jacket  and  trousers ;  and  had  not  a  pair  of  stout  suspenders 
connected  his  upper  and  lower  extremities,  it  is  not  certain 
but  that  the  shoulders  might  have  left  the  legs  altogether. 

Various  unaccountable  impressions  have  existed  respecting 
the  sympathy  between  a  little  boy's  head  and  his  hinder 
parts.  Many  think  that  his  brain  is  best  excited  by  the 
application  of  stimulants  to  the  rear,  and  that  the  harder  he 
sits,  the  harder  he  studies.  Nature,  in  view  of  these  impres 
sions,  is  kind  to  small  boys  in  making  them  tough  in  those 
aggrieved  regions. 

The  attorney  apparently  labored  under  a  delusion  of  the 
same  kind ;  for  his  clerk  was  perched  at  one  of  the  cast-off 
desks  just  mentioned,  with  'Coke  upon  Littleton'  under  his 
seat,  and  a  volume  of  Blackstone,  somewhat  dog's-eared, 
under  his  nose.  He  was  reading  with  intense  earnestness ; 
not  that  he  had  any  peculiar  relish  for  the  writings  of  that 
learned  gentleman ;  but  being  somewhat  superstitious,  he 
was  at  that  particular  moment  under  the  firm  conviction 
that  a  strange  figure,  with  red  eyes  and  green  lips,  was 
pleasantly  peeping  over  his  shoulder,  and  only  waiting  for 
him  to  look  up  to  make  some  agreeable  remark ;  and  that 
from  a  small  window  with  one  pane,  directly  over  the  desk, 
and  opening  into  a  dark  closet,  a  stout  Irish  lady,  whom  he 
had  seen  hung  the  week  previous,  was  looking  out,  and 
superintending  his  studies  with  a  maternal  eye. 

For  a  long  time  the  attorney  sat  pondering  in  his  back 
office.  Over  his  head  a  solitary  spider,  who  kept  later  hours 
than  the  most  of  his  species,  was  straggling  along  the  walls, 
with  an  uncertain,  irresolute  air,  as  if  half  asleep  or  out  of 
his  latitude.  Bolton  watched  him  until  he  was  lost  in  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  137 

shadow  of  the  room.  Some  chain  of  thought  seemed  snapped 
as  he  disappeared  ;  for  the  attorney  unfolded  his  arms,  rose 
to  his  feet,  and  muttered  something  to  himself. 

*  No  shrinking  now  ;  no,  no  !     He  's  dead,  stone  dead  ; 
stiff  in  his  coffin  !      He,  at  least,  can  say  nothing ;  and  she} 
said  he,  speaking  aloud,  '  let  her  do  what  she  can !     Tom  ! ' 

The  long-legged  boy  started  up  and  thrust  his  head  into 
the  door. 

*  Who  's  been  here  this  afternoon  ? ' 

*  No  body  but  the  old  woman,'  replied  the  boy,  bluntly. 
'•She  here  again? '  said  the  attorney,  compressing  his  lips ; 

4  she 's  always  here,  d  —  n  her !     What  did  she  want  ? ' 
'  Nothing  now.' 

*  That 's  something  strange,'  said  Bolton.     '  What  did  she 


'  She  said,'  continued  the  boy,  looking  full  in  the  face  of 
the  attorney,  and  watching  the  effect  of  his  words  with  a 
sort  of  malicious  pleasure,  *  that  the  last  time  she  was  here 
she  told  you  her  husband  was  dying  by  inches  ;  that  they  had 
nothing  to  buy  even  bread  with ;  and  that  if  you  let  that 
deputy-sheriff  seize  his  furniture  under  his  very  eyes,  it  would 
kill  him  outright.' 

'  I  know  it,'  replied  the  attorney  ;  '  something  of  that  kind 
was  said,  but  I  did  n't  listen  to  her.' 

4  Well,'  said  the  boy,  '  the  deputy  did  seize  the  furniture  ; 
and  the  man  did  die  :  and  she  came  here  to  tell  you,  and 
to  say  that  she  hoped  God  would  blight  you  in  this  world, 
and  damn  you  hereafter.  That 's  what  she  wanted ;  and 
when  she  had  said  it,  she  shut  the  door,  and  hobbled  through 
the  entry,  laughing  loud  enough  to  split  her  throat.' 

Bolton  compressed  his  lips ;  but  no  further  sign  of  emo 
tion  escaped  him.  After  a  moment,  he  asked  :  '  lias  any 
one  else  been  here  ? ' 


138  THE    ATTORNEY. 

The  boy  shook  his  head. 

*  Very  well ;  shut  the  door  ;  lock  the  outer  one ;  and  if 
any  one  knocks,  do  n't  answer.' 

The  boy  shut  the  door,  in  pursuance  of  his  instructions ; 
and  Bolton  stood  until  he  heard  the  key  turned  in  the  outer 
door,  and  the  boy  seating  himself  at  his  desk. 

'  She  did  say  so,  and  he  did  die  ! '  muttered  he.  '  Well, 
that 's  her  affair.  Every  thing  was  done  according  to  law. 
Let  her  blame  those  who  make  laws,  not  those  who  enforce 
them.  Now  to  my  own  affairs.' 

As  he  spoke,  he  went  to  the  drawer  and  took  out  a  key, 
unlocked  the  iron  safe,  and  after  fumbling  among  his  papers, 
finally  drew  out  the  forged  Will,  laid  it  on  the  table,  lighted 
another  candle,  and  read  it  from  beginning  to  end,  without 
pausing,  until  his  eye  rested  on  the  names  of  the  witnesses. 
'George  Wilkins,  William  Higgs,'  muttered  he;  'George 
Wilkins  ?  George  Wilkins  ?  —  ay,  George  Wilkins  ;  God ! 
how  I  wish  you  had  your  throat  cut ! '  He  folded  the  paper, 
placed  it  in  front  of  him,  and  resting  his  two  elbows  on  the 
table,  leaned  his  head  between  his  hands,  and  seemed  to  read 
the  endorsemtfnt.  But  other  thoughts  were  in  his  mind. 

'  Yes,  he  's  dead ;  dead,  in  his  coffin,  in  his  vault,  with 
the  damp  earth  over  him.  He  can 't  come  back.  He  at 
least  can't  cross  me.  I  wish  one  other  was  with  him.  I  Ve 
got  his  name  as  a  witness  ;  and  if  he  were  dead,  and  I  could 
prove  it  —  the  law  is  kind  —  it  would  let  me  do  without 
him.'  He  rose,  went  to  the  safe,  and  feeling  in  one  of  the 
pigeon-holes,  drew  out  a  large  Spanish  knife.  He  held  the 
blade  to  the  light,  and  seemed  in  deep  thought.  He  tried 
the  point  on  the  end  of  his  finger,  and  then  clenched  the 
handle  with  a  firm,  strong  grasp.  But  almost  at  the  same 
instant  he  relaxed  his  hand  and  shook  his  head,  muttering : 


THE    ATTORNEY.  139 

*  No,  no  ;  it 's  too  perilous.'  Replacing  Uie  knife,  he  locked 
the  safe  and  took  out  the  key. 

'  It  won't  do  ;  it  won't  do  ! '  said  he,  shutting  his  eyeo,  aa 
if  to  keep  out  some  fancy  that  would  rise.  'Blood  may 
come  of  it  some  day,  but  not  now.  But  he  has  altered 
strangely.  He 's  as  wild  and  fierce  as  a  tiger.  He  even 
begins  to  threaten.  Let  him  look  to  himself !  George  Wil- 
Jcins,  I  say,  look  to  yourself!  I  have  you  in  my  gripe ;  and 
go  on  you  shall,  step  by  step,  until  the  law  has  separated  you 
from  the  only  one  who  stood  between  you  and  crime.  Ones 
rid  of  her,  once  where  I  will  sink  you,  then  betray  me  if  you 
dare ! ' 

Bolton  laughed  as  he  spoke ;  but  God  grant  that  such 
laughs  may  be  few !  It  made  even  the  long-legged  clerk 
stop  his  ears  and  thrust  his  nose  an  inch  nearer  the  page  in 
front  of  him  ;  and  it  rang  through  the  room  so  strangely, 
that  it  seemed  to  the  attorney  that  another  voice  had  taken 
it  up,  and  was  echoing  it.  He  stopped  and  listened ;  but  all 
was  silent.  Taking  up  the  Will,  he  thrust  it  in  his  pocket , 
and  putting  on  his  hat  and  cloak,  went  into  the  other  office, 

4  You  may  go,  Tom.' 

Tom  waited  to  hear  no  more.  He  darted  from  his  desk ; 
clutched  up  a  small  basket  in  which  he  usually  brought  his 
dinner  ;  grabbed  a  ragged  cap  ;  blew  out  his  candle,  and 
dashed  through  the  dark  entry,  as  if  fully  persuaded  that 
the  Devil  was  at  his  heels.  As  this  was  the  ordinary  man 
ner  in  which  that  young  gentleman  took  his  departure,  it 
excited  no  surprise  in  the  attorney,  who  waited  until  the 
noise  of  his  steps  had  died  away,  then  returned  to  his  own 
room,  and  bringing  the  light  into  the  outer  office,  extin 
guished  it  and  went  out,  shutting  and  locking  the  door  after 
him. 

He  now  directed  his  steps  toward  the  upper  part  of  the 


140  THE    ATTORNEY. 

city,  following  a  narrow  street  until  he  came  to  a  great 
thoroughfare,  where  he  joined  the  crowd  which  poured  along 
it  in  the  direction  in  which  he  wished  to  go.  He  was  so 
engrossed  with  his  own  thoughts  that  he  did  not  observe 
several  persons  who  spoke  to  him,  and  who,  struck  by  his 
unusual  air,  turned  to  look  after  him  when  he  had  passed 
them.  Had  this  not  been  the  case,  it  is  probable  that  he 
would  have  remarked  a  man  who  followed  him,  accelerating 
his  pace  when  he  quickened  his  ;  now  stopping  to  gaze  in  a 
shop-window,  now  at  the  corner  of  a  street,  now  lagging  to 
read  some  illuminated  sign ;  but  always  with  his  eye  on  him ; 
and  always  preserving  the  same  relative  distance  between 
them.  Bolton  at  last  turned  into  a  side  street,  and  before 
he  had  gone  a  hundred  yards  the  man  was  at  his  side. 

'A  fine  night,  Sir,'  said  he. 

Bolton  looked  at  him,  but  made  no  reply,  and  slackened 
his  pace  to  permit  him  to  pass.  The  man,  however,  seemed 
to  have  no  intention  to  do  so.  The  attorney  then  pushed 
on,  but  the  stranger  did  the  same.  At  length  Bolton  stopped 
and  said : 

'  If  you  have  any  business  with  me,  name  it.  If  not,  pur 
sue  your  course,  and  leave  me  to  pursue  mine.  I  will  not 
be  dogged  in  this  manner.'  . 

'  For  the  matter  of  that,'  replied  the  stranger,  '  the  street 
is  free  to  every  body ;  and  if  I  happen  to  go  in  the  same 
direction  that  you  do,  or  to  walk  fast  or  slow,  or  to  stop 
when  you  do,  I  suppose  there  is  no  law  to  regulate  my  pace 
or  my  pauses,  or  to  prevent  my  walking  wherever  I  please. 
You  must  know  that.  You  are  a  lawyer,  I  believe.' 

4  You  have  the  Devil's  own  coolness,'  replied  Bolton,  with 
a  sneer.  i  I  '11  do  you  that  justice.' 

4  Then  I  'm  in  luck  ;  for  I'm  the  first  that  ever  got  it  at 
your  hands,'  replied  the  stranger. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  141 

Had  there  been  light  sufficient  for  the  man  who  uttered 
this  sarcasm  to  have  seen  the  expression  that  passed  over  the 
attorney's  face  ;  the  black  eye  lighten  up  until  it  seemed  to 
glow  with  a  red-heat ;  the  compressed  lips,  which  trembled 
in  spite  ef  him ;  the  clutched  fingers  ;  he  would  not  have 
stood  there  so  carelessly  without  dreaming  of  harm,  and 
might  have  wished  his  last  words  unsaid.  '  Your  name 's 
Bolton,'  continued  he.  '  You  are  a  lawyer  ;  and  if  you  are 
nothing  worse,  I  wrong  you,  that 's  all.' 

'  My  name  is  Bolton,'  said  the  other.    '  Well,  what  then  ? ' 

'  You  see  that  I  know  you  ;  and  of  course  you  may  well 
suppose  that  I  had  some  motive  for  following  you.' 

'  Well,  what  is  it  ?  I  can't  spend  the  night  in  the  street/ 
said  the  lawyer,  sharply. 

'  You  've  made  many  others  do  so,'  said  the  stranger, 
coldly.  'You  should  not  turn  up  your  nose  at  the  fare 
which  you  have  provided  so  often  for  them.' 

Bolton  made  no  reply,  but  stopped  short.  The  stranger, 
after  hesitating  a  moment,  demanded  bluntly  : 

'  Do  you  know  one  George  Wilkins  ? ' 

*  I  do.' 

'And  are  mixed  up  with  most  of  his  concerns  ?' 

'  What 's  that  to  you  ? '  demanded  Bolton. 

The  other  paid  no  attention  to  the  question,  but  asked  : 

'  Are  you  acquainted  with  his  wife  ? ' 

'  I  never  saw  her.' 

'And  do  n't  know  that  she's  left  him  ? ' 

'  No.' 

'  Nor  where  she 's  gone  to  ?  —  nor  who  she  went  with  ? ' 

'  No,'  said  Bolton,  sternly  :  '  I  do  n't  know  the  woman  ; 
never  saw  her ;  know  nothing  about  her.  I  suppose  she 
went  off  because  she  found  some  one  whom  she  liked  better 
than  her  husband.  Find  him,  and  he  '11  t«ll  you  what  you 


142  THE    ATTORNEY. 

want  to  know.  Women  will  do  these  things ;  and  she,  I 
suppose,  is  no  better  than  the  rest  of  them.' 

The  stranger  clenched  his  fist ;  but  before  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  strike,  the  attorney  had  turned  from  him, 
and  was  hurrying  along  the  street. 

He  kept  on  at  a  rapid  pace  until  he  came  to  the  house 
lately  occupied  by  Mr.  Crawford.  He  walked  past  it  once 
or  twice,  with  a  strange  feeling  of  fear  and  irresolution. 
It  appeared  deserted,  and  the  windows  were  closed,  except 
one  in  the  upper  story,  where  a  dim  light  was  burning. 
The  street  was  so  quiet  and  lonely  that  it  brought  home 
to  him  a  sense  of  guilt  which  he  had  not  experienced  until 
then.  He  fancied  that  he  saw  the  figure  of  the  old  man 
standing  at  his  own  threshold  to  guard  it  against  him,  and 
looking  at  him  with  such  an  expression  of  reproach  and 
warning,  that  it  made  his  heart  sink.  But  he  was  not  a  man 
to  give  way  to  idle  fancies.  Hurrying  up  the  steps,  he  rang 
the  bell.  The  summons  was  answered  by  the  red-eared  man 
servant,  who,  in  his  usual  manner,  opened  the  door  just  wide 
enough  to  permit  his  head  to  be  seen  from  behind  it,  and  in 
further  pursuance  of  the  same  usual  custom,  looked  at  the 
person  on  the  outside,  and  demanded  who  he  was,  and  what 
he  wanted.  '  I  wish  to  see  Miss  Crawford,'  replied  Bolton. 

'  You  do,  do  you  ?  Well,  you  can't,'  replied  the  servant, 
positively.  'The  old  gentleman's  just  underground;  the 
young  lady 's  most  done  up,  and  won't  see  no  body ;  and  none 
of  the  rest  on  us  feels  like  entertainin'  visitors.' 

Bolton  deliberated  for  a  moment  upon  the  expediency  of 
kicking  the  man  ;  but  as  the  door  was  between  him  and  that 
part  of  the  servant's  person  which  is  usually  the  theatre  of 
such  performances,  he  merely  bade  him,  in  a  sharp  tone,  to 
'go  to  his  mistress  and  to  tell  her  that  Mr.  Bolton  was  there, 
and  must  speak  to  her  on  matters  of  business  ; '  at  the  same 


THE    ATTORNEY.  143 

time  insinuating  that  if  lie  did  n't  move  rapidly,  he  might 
be  prevailed  upon  to  assist  him.  Although  the  servant  was 
a  fat  man,  and  fat  men  are  neither  swift  nor  active,  yet  the 
idea  of  receiving  the  promised  aid  touched  his  pride ;  for  ho 
disappeared  forthwith,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of 
time  returned,  and  told  the  attorney  that  the  young  lady 
would  see  him. 

The  room  into  which  he  was  conducted  was  large,  and 
furnished  in  the  most  costly  manner.  Pier-glasses,  divans, 
and  couches  of  rich  silk ;  tables  and  ornaments  of  various 
kinds,  showed  that  its  former  occupant  had  been  lavish  in 
all  that  could  add  to  the  comfort  and  beauty  of  his  abode. 
It  was  with  a  mingled  feeling  of  triumph  and  misgiving  that 
the  attorney  muttered  to  himself,  as  these  things  met  his 
view,  '  Mine,  mine  ;  these  are  mine  ! '  At  the  far  end  of  the 
room,  at  a  small  table,  sat  Helen  Crawford  in  deep  mourn 
ing  ;  and  near  her  a  girl  of  about  her  own  age,  engaged  in 
sewing.  The  young  lady  half  arose  as  he  entered  ;  but  her 
companion  continued  sewing,  and  did  not  even  raise  her 
head.  Miss  Crawford  pointed  to  a  chair,  and  without  speak 
ing,  waited  for  him  to  open  his  business,  which  he  did  in  a 
very  few  words  ;  and  after  having  explained  the  object  of 
his  visit,  he  said  :  '  Now,  if  you  please,  I  will  read  the  Will.' 

Miss  Crawford  merely  bowed. 

The  attorney  looked  at  her  companion,  who  sat  with  her 
face  averted,  apparently  without  attending  to  the  conversa 
tion. 

'  I  have  no  secrets  which  this  person  may  not  hear,'  said 
Miss  Crawford,  interpreting  the  look  correctly. 

The  attorney  merely  bowed,  and  then,  as  if  nerving  him 
self  for  his  task,  slowly  drew  the  "Will  from  his  pocket,  and 
spread  it  open. 

'  This  is  it,'  said  he,  holding  it  to  the  light,  and  eyeing  her 
steadily. 


144  THE    ATTORNEY. 

Miss  Crawford  said  notking ;  and  the  lawyer  proceeded 
in  a  slow  voice  to  read  the  whole.  As  he  went  on,  the  color 
left  the  cheek  of  the  girl ;  and  when  he  had  finished,  she 
stood  before  him  like  a  marble  statue. 

*  Mr.  Bolton,'  said  she,  with  a  calmness  that  startled  him, 
'  that  Will  was  never  made  by  my  father.     I  pronounce  it 
to  be  a  forgery  ;  and  I  '11  prove  it  so.   The  money  and  lands 
might  all  have  gone ;  but  to  sully  the  pure  name  of  my 
mother,  to  brand  my  father,  and  stamp  infamy  on  myself,  is 
what  I  will  never  submit  to.     The  proof  of  my  mother's 
marriage  and  of  my  own  birth  is  too  clear,  and  upon  it  I 
pronounce  that  Will  to  be  a  forgery.' 

'  Miss  Crawford,'  replied  the  attorney,  in  a  serious  tone,  *  I 
can  make  all  allowance  for  disappointed  expectation  ;  but 
these  are  grave  charges.' 

1 1  know  them  to  be  such ;  and  yet  I  repeat  them,'  said 
she ;  '  that  paper  I  pronounce  to  be  no  Will  of  my  father's. 
It  has  either  been  altered  or  forged.' 

*  There 's  the  signature,'  replied  Bolton,  somewhat  daunted 
at  firmness  and  energy  from  a  quarter  where  he  expected 
none,  and  which  made  him  desirous,  if  possible,  of  convinc 
ing  her  before  he  went  away.     *  You  can  tell  whether  it  is 
your  father's.'     He  reached  the  paper  toward  her.     'The 
Will  was  executed  on  the  tenth  day  of  August  last.' 

The  girl  took  it  and  scrutinized  the  signature;  and  so 
like  was  it,  that  she  felt  that  she  might  be  wrong. 

Slowly  and  half  unconsciously  she  read  the  formal  attesta 
tion  clause,  until  she  came  to  the  names  of  the  witnesses, 
4  William  Higgs,  George  Wilkins? 

As  she  pronounced  these  names,  the  girl  at  her  side  started 
from  her  seat  and  threw  a  hurried  glance  at  the  paper.  She 
•was  not  observed,  however,  by  either ;  and  the  attorney  con 
tinued  : 


THE    ATTORNEY.  145 

*  The  Will  was  executed  on  the  tenth  day  of  August  last. 
These  men,  William  Higgs  and  George  WiJkins,  were  pre 
sent  at  the  time,  and  saw  it,  and  will  swear  to  it  when  it  is 
necessary.' 

The  other  girl  now  rose  from  her  chair,  went  directly  to 
the  table,  and  took  the  paper  from  the  hand  of  the  attorney. 
She  did  not  look  at  the  body  of  the  Will,  but  only  at  the 
signatures  of  the  witnesses. 

She  placed  it  quietly  on  the  table  when  she  had  done  so, 
and  took  her  seat ;  but  had  the  others  been  less  interested 
in  what  was  going  on,  they  might  have  observed  that  though 
her  head  was  bent  over  her  work,  she  was  doing  nothing. 
Her  hands  were  clasped  together,  and  her  features  were  con 
vulsed  as  if  with  intense  pain.  She  remained  silent,  and  did 
not  alter  her  position  until  the  attorney  had  finished  his 
business  and  was  gone. 


146  THE    ATTORN K 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

A  FEW  nights  after  the  occurrences  narrated  in  the  last 
chapter,  Lucy  was  sitting  alone  in  the  drawing-room.  Since 
the  lawyer's  visit,  her  fears  and  misgivings  respecting  her 
husband's  connection  with  that  Will  were  working  their  way 
into  her  very  life.  Her  cheek  grew  hollow  and  thin,  and 
her  eyes  larger,  deeper,  and  more  dazzling ;  she  became 
restless  and  uneasy.  Sometimes  she  started  from  her  seat, 
and  walked  with  disordered  steps  up  and  down  the  room, 
until  it  seemed  to  strike  her  that  this  strange  conduct  would 
attract  observation  ;  and  then  she  would  resume  her  seat  in 
silence.  At  other  times,  she  wandered  listlessly  about  the 
house,  apparently  with  no  other  object  than  the  vain  hope 
that  change  of  place  might  bring  change  of  thought.  And 
when,  recollecting  the  heavy  affliction  which  had  lately  be 
fallen  Miss  Crawford,  she  endeavored  to  cheer  her,  there  was 
something  so  mournful  and  despairing  in  hei  manner,  and 
in  the  tones  which  seemed  to  well  from  a  broken  heart,  that 
it  made  Miss  Crawford  even  more  sad  than  before ;  and  after 
an  effort  of  this  kind,  Lucy  would  often  sink  into  gloomy 
silence,  and  remain  so  for  hours.  Even  the  servants  noticed 
her  altered  appearance,  and  hinted  to  each  other  that  '  there 
was  a  screw  loose  somewhere,'  and  that  '  all  was  not  as  it 
should  be'  with  her. 

Her  imagination  was  teeming  with  suspicions  respecting 
her  husband,  that  made  her  sick  at  heart.  She  tried  to  keep 
them  out,  but  they  would  intrude.  She  fancied  him  hand 
cuffed,  a  felon,  dragged  through  the  streets,  with  a  crowd 


THE    ATTORNEY.  147 

following  at  his  heels,  hooting  and  pointing  at  him,  with 
hisses,  groans,  and  execrations.  The  number  seemed  to 
increase,  the  more  she  thought  of  it.  They  came  from  all 
quarters,  in  multitudes  that  had  no  end  ;  until  all  about  him, 
house-tops,  windows,  steps  and  side-walks  were  swarming 
with  a  countless  throng  of  faces.  Then  the  scene  changed 
to  a  court  of  justice,  and  he  was  arraigned  there  for  trial.  It 
was  crowded  from  floor  to  ceiling ;  but  all  were  against  him. 
Every  eye  burned  with  fury ;  every  tongue  uttered  a" menace. 
None  pitied  him  —  not  one!  And  there  he  was,  shrinking 
and  crouching  before  the  eye  of  the  multitude,  and  looking 
imploringly  at  her  to  help  him  —  and  she  could  not !  And 
at  the  bottom  of  all  was  that  Will.  She  pressed  back  her 
hair,  and  gazed  eagerly  around  the  room.  She  would  have 
sworn  that  she  heard  his  voice  ;  but  it  was  all  fancy.  She 
trimmed  the  lights,  and  drew  nearer  the  fire,  for  she  was 
very  lonely. 

The  door-bell  rang.  The  servant  crept  slowly  through  the 
entry,  and  spoke  to  some  one.  Then  he  came  to  the  room- 
door  ;  opened  it,  and  thrusting  in  his  head,  said  that  a  man 
was  asking  for  some  one,  and  he  guessed  it  must  be  her,  and 
wanted  to  know  if  he  should  let  him  in. 

Lucy  nodded  ;  and  in  a  moment  after  a  heavy  step  sounded 
in  the  entry,  and  a  large  man  entered.  He  was  dressed  in 
a  rough  great-coat,  with  a  broad-brimmed  hat  drawn  over 
his  eyes,  so  that  it  completely  concealed  his  face.  He 
walked  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  looked  irresolutely  about 
him,  then  went  to  where  the  light  shone  full  in  his  face,  took 
off  his  hat,  and  stood  still  without  speaking. 

The  girl  watched  him  without  a  word,  until  he  raised  his 
hat,  and  then  said  sadly,  and  with  more  of  disappointment 
than  surprise  in  her  tone  : 

'  So,  it 's  you,  Jack  Phillips  ? ' 


148  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Yes,  Lucy,'  replied  the  young  man,  gravely :  '  I  caine 
here,  I  scarcely  know  why.  I  went  to  your  house  and  found 
you  gone ;  and  George  either  could  n't  or  would  n't  tell 
where  you  were.  I  Ve  searched  for  you  all  over ;  and  by 
the  merest  chance  saw  you  here  as  I  was  passing.  I  was 
afraid  you  might  be  in  want  or  in  trouble,  and  I  could  n't 
bear  the  thought  of  that.  But  you  seem  quite  comfortable,' 
said  he,  looking  around  the  richly-furnished  room. 

'  Yes,  for  a  time  I  am,'  said  Lucy.  '  The  young  lady  who 
lives  here  has  been  very  kind  to  me.  But  I  shall  soon  be 
where  I  can  earn  my  own  bread.  With  a  will,  Jack,  there 's 
always  a  way ;  and  I  will  earn  an  honest  living,  if  I  work 
my  fingers  to  the  bone ! ' 

Phillips  shook  his  head  ;  for  he  saw  how  wasted  her  face 
was,  how  dark,  and  deep,  and  glowing  were  her  eyes ;  he 
observed  the  bright  and  feverish  glow  of  her  cheek ;  and  a 
foreboding  crossed  him,  that  her  hour  of  toil  was  drawing  to 
its  close. 

1  But  can't  I  help  you  in  any  way,  Lucy  ? '  inquired  he 
earnestly.  *  You  know  I  would  work  like  a  dog  to  do  it. 
I  need  n't  tell  you  that.' 

The  girl  approached  him,  and  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm, 
and  sinking  her  voice,  said :  '  Jack,  I  have  something  on  my 
mind  which  has  been  wearing  away  my  life  by  inches.  I 
wanted  to  speak  to  some  one  about  it,  but  I  was  afraid.  I 
could  n't  trust  it  with  them?  said  she,  pointing  as  if  to  the 
other  occupants  of  the  house,  '  and  least  of  all  to  her  —  the 
young  lady,  I  mean  —  but  I  '11  tell  you.1  She  looked  about 
her,  as  if  fearful  of  being  overheard,  and  spoke  almost  in  a 
whisper : 

*  You  must  n't  breathe  it  to  a  soul.  I  need  n't  repeat  to 
you  the  difficulties  between  George  and  myself.  You  Ve 
seen  a  great  deal,'  said  she,  half  choking  in  the  effort  to  con- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  149 

ceal  her  agitation,  but  you  have  n't  seen  all.  You  must  n't 
come  here  again.  It  will  be  the  worse  for  me  if  you  do. 
It 's  no  freak,'  said  she,  quickly,  observing  an  expression  as 
of  pain  in  his  face ;  'but  it  was  about  you  that  we  quarrelled. 
He  had  suspicions  of  me,  which  I  never  dreamed  of.  They 
were  hard  to  bear ;  but  he  was  in  earnest  in  them :  and  you 
were  the  man  he  was  jealous  of.' 

1  Me ! '  exclaimed  Phillips ;  '  and  did  he  tell  you  this  \ ' 

'  Yes,  he  did,'  replied  Lucy,  earnestly,  '  and  in  such  a  way 
that  I  hope  I  may  rest  in  my  coffin  before  I  hear  him  speak 
so  again.'  The  tears  gushed  to  her  eyes,  but  she  dashed 
them  off,  and  went  on.  '  I  only  mention  this,  that  you  may 
know  why  I  will  not  see  you  again.  You  are  the  truest 
friend  I  ever  had ;  but  I  will  not  lay  myself  open  to  sus 
picion  ;  nor  shall  there  be  even  the  shadow  of  a  cause  for 
slander.  George  was  mad,  I  believe,  or  he  would  not  have 
struck  me.  He  was  bad  enough,  often,  but  he  never  did 
that  till  then.  I  wish  it  had  killed  me  at  once  ! ' 

Phillips  scarcely  breathed  as  he  listened.  Every  feature 
of  his  face  was  bloodless,  and  his  lips  were  firmly  set  together. 
The  girl  went  on  without  noticing  it. 

'  Some  one  was  at  the  bottom  of  all  this,  and  there 's  one 
whom  I  suspect  —  a  man  named  Bolton.  From  the  time 
that  George  first  fell  in  with  him,  all  has  gone  wrong.  He 
has  grown  poor,  and  his  disposition  has  become  changed. 
He  never  goes  to  the  office  of  that  man  but  he  leaves  it 
worse  than  he  went.  I  've  heard  things  about  that  lawyer, 
too,  that  make  my  blood  run  cold.  He  came  here  two 
nights  since,  with  a  Will  which  was  to  strip  Miss  Crawford 
of  every  thing  she  has  in  the  world,  and  give  it  to  himself. 
It  was  signed  by  her  father  ;  and  there  were  two  witnesses  — 
George  Wilkins  and  William  Higgs,'  said  she,  in  a  low  tone. 
'He  says  they  saw  him  sign  it,  and  will  swear  to  it.' 


150  THE    ATTORNEY. 

She  paused  and  pressed  her  hand  painfully  on  her  side ; 
and  Phillips  could  hear  distinctly  the  rapid  pulsation  of  her 
heart.  'Yes,  that's  what  they  are  to  do.  They  are  to 
swear  to  that]  continued  she,  trembling  as  she  spoke ;  *  but 
there 's  something  worse  than  all  that.  Neither  of  them  ever 
saw  him  sign  it.  As  true  as  I  stand  here,  they  did  not ! ' 

'  Good  God  I '  exclaimed  Phillips. 

'  It 's  true !  before  the  God  of  heaven  it 's  true !  I  say 
it  — /,  the  wife  of  one  of  them.  I  know  it,  and  I  could  prove 
it ! '  exclaimed  the  girl,  wildly.  '  Perhaps  I  ought  to  ;  for 
the  young  lady  saved  my  life,  and  the  very  bread  I  eat  is 
hers.  It  almost  chokes  me  when  I  think  of  it.  But,  Jack, 
when  I  married  him,  I  swore  before  God  to  love,  honor,  and 
cherish  him  ;  to  stand  by  him  when  all  others  deserted  him ; 
and  come  what  will,  I  cannot  betray  him  now.  Hear  me 
out,'  said  she,  holding  up  her  hand  to  prevent  him  from 
interrupting  her.  '  Hear  me  out,  while  I  can  speak  —  God 
only  knows  how  long  it  will  be.  Now,  you  must  do  this 
for  my  sake,'  said  she,  speaking  so  rapidly  that  he  could 
scarcely  understand  her,  and  grasping  his  arm  with  a  force 
which  was  even  painful :  '  You  must  seek  him  out ;  track 
him  from  street  to  street,  from  house  to  house :  no  matter 
where  or  in  what  places  it  leads  you  ;  you  must  follow  him 
up  as  if  your  very  life  depended  on  your  finding  him  ;  and 
you  must  not  give  up  till  you  do  find  him.  Tell  him  all 
that  you  know.  Tell  him  that  Mr.  Crawford's  Will  has  been 
forged ;  that  his  name  is  signed  to  it  as  a  witness ;  that 
there  is  one  who  can  prove  that  Will  to  be  forged,  and  will ; 
ay,  will  —  say  that.  That  may  have  some  weight,  if  nothing 
else  will.  If  that  fails,  keep  him  away  ;  shut  him  up  —  do 
any  thing ;  any  thing  !  —  only  do  not  let  him  have  that 
heavy  sin  on  his  soul.  The  bare  thought  of  what  may  hap 
pen  to  him  is  killing  me.  There  is  a  weight  here]  said  she, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  151 

laying  her  hand  on  her  heart,  *  that  is  dragging  me  down  to 
the  grave.  I  have  spoken  openly  to  you  ;  more  so,  perhaps, 
than  I  ought  to  have  spoken ;  but  you  are  my  only  friend 
now.  You  may  be  able  to  save  him  when  I  cannot,  though 
God  knows  I  would  drop  down  dead  on  this  very  spot  if  I 
could !  There,  now  go ;  you  've  heard  all.  Learn  what  you 
can,  and  let  me  know  it.  Do  n't  come  yourself;  but  write. 
I  cannot  tell  you  what  to  do,  or  how  to  set  about  it.  In  that 
you  must  judge  for  yourself :  but  mark  me  well — you  must 
not  fail!  There,  go,  go  ! '  said  she,  half  pushing  him  to  the 
door ;  'make  haste,  and  I  will  thank  you  to  the  last  day. of 
my  life,  and  on  my  bended  knees  I  will  bless  you  and  pray 
for  you ! ' 

Phillips  hesitated,  and  then  said : 

'  Well,  Lucy,  for  your  sake,  I  will  see  what  I  can  do  ;  but, 
d  —  n  him  !  I  think  the  State-prison  the  best  place  for  him  ! 
If  I  had  him  here,'  exclaimed  he,  clenching  his  fist,  '  I  'd 
break  every  bone  in  his  infernal  carcass  ! ' 

Having  thus  given  vent  to  his  anger,  he  went  through  the 
entry,  and  out  of  the  door,  without  even  looking  back.  He 
set  out,  determined  to  find  Wilkins  ;  to  discover  how  he  was 
connected  with  the  lawyer  in  this  transaction ;  and  if  the 
fears  of  his  wife  were  just,  either  by  persuasion  or  menace, 
to  keep  him  from  implicating  himself  more  deeply.  If  he 
failed  in  this,  he  intended  to  go  directly  to  the  lawyer,  dis 
cover  to  him  what  he  knew,  and  then  to  threaten  him  with 
disgrace  and  punishment,  if  he  persisted  in  his  attempt  to 
establish  the  Will.  But  all  this  depended  on  the  fact  of  its 
being  a  forgery.  He  had  no  proof  of  that,  except  the  bare 
word  of  a  poor,  half-distracted  girl.  Yet  he  believed  her 
without  hesitation,  and  did  not  scruple  to  act  upon  her 
words  as  if  they  were  established  beyond  a  doubt. 

'  She  shall  not  be  friendless  while  I  live  ! '  muttered  he,  a? 


152  THE    ATTORNEY. 

he  went  through  the  street.  *  Poor  Lucy !  God  help  her  ! 
she  might  have  got  a  wiser  head,  but  not  a  more  willing 
heart.  Yes,  poor  dear  broken-hearted  little  Lucy  ! '  exclaimed 
he,  the  tears  filling  his  eyes  as  he  spoke,  *  I  'm  afraid  it 's 
your  last  wish.  I  am  indeed  ;  but  I  '11  do  it.  I  '11  find  him ; 
I  '11  stand  between  him  and  harm,  as  you  would  have  done ; 
and  if  he  resists  persuasion,  by  G-d,  I  '11  thrash  him  within 
an  inch  of  his  life  ! ' 

He  knew  not  where  to  look  for  Wilkins ;  but  as  the  most 
probable  place,  directed  his  steps  to  his  dwelling.  When  he 
came  to  it,  he  found  it  dark  and  deserted.  He  went  to  the 
door  of  the  room  and  knocked.  There  was  no  answer  save 
the  ringing  echo  of  his  own  blows.  He  then  called  Wilkins 
by  name. 

'  What  yer  kickin'  up  such  a  rumpus  about  ? '  growled  a 
savage  voice  from  a  door  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  leading  to 
the  second  story.  At  the  same  time,  a  rough  head,  garnished 
with  a  red  beard  of  several  days'  growth,  and  bandaged 
across  one  eye,  was  thrust  out,  while  the  remaining  eye, 
ominously  bruised,  was,  by  the  assistance  of  a  sickly  candle, 
brought  to  bear  upon  Phillips. 

*  What  yer  want  ? ' 

'  Where  's  Wilkins  ? '  demanded  he ;  '  I  want  him.' 

'You  do,  do  yer?  —  well,  look  for  him.  I  thought  the 
house  was  a-fire  ; '  and  the  head  and  candle  were  withdrawn 
simultaneously,  and  the  door  slammed  shut.  Phillips  thought 
it  worse  than  useless  to  prosecute  further  his  inquiries  in  this 
quarter,  and  accordingly  left  the  house  and  went  straight  to 
one  of  those  places  which  he  knew  that  Wilkins  was  in  the 
habit  of  frequenting.  But  wherever  he  went,  his  inquiries 
were  fruitless.  At  some  places  he  had  not  been  for  more 
than  a  week  ;  at  others,  the  time  was  even  longer ;  and  at 
none  had  he  stopped  within  the  last  few  days.  From  all 


THE    ATTORNEY.  153 

that  he  could  ascertain,  it  seemed  doubtful  whether  Wilkins 
had  been  at  any  of  his  old  haunts  since  the  night  on  which 
he  had  parted  with  him.  One  or  two  persons  had  met  him 
in  the  streets  within  a  day  or  two,  but  he  had  appeared  so 
savage  and  morose  that  they  pretended  not  to  notice  him, 
and  passed  without  greeting  him.  They  all  spoke  of  him  as 
gaunt,  haggard,  like  one  who  had  been  on  the  verge  of  the 
grave.  Further  than  this,  Phillips  could  learn  nothing ;  and 
he  now  determined  to  see  Higgs,  who  (from  Lucy's  account) 
was  also  implicated  with  him  and  the  lawyer. 

He  had  little  difficulty  in  ascertaining  where  Higgs  was. 
In  fact,  there  were  few  places  where  he  was  not.  A  dozen 
were  mentioned  in  a  breath,  where  he  had  been  seen  that 
day.  The  last  person,  however,  had  left  him  at  '  Quagley's 
Retreat,'  within  an  hour.  He  was  greatly  improved  in  ap 
pearance  ;  having,  as  he  said,  inherited  a  large  amount  of 
property  from  a  relative  recently  dead.  Phillips  did  not  wait 
to  hear  the  end  of  the  man's  surmises  as  to  where  his  wealth 
came  from,  and  how  much  it  was,  and  which  were  as  correct 
as  the  surmises  of  a  man  who  knows  nothing  about  a  matter 
generally  are,  but  left  him  and  proceeded  to  '  Quagley's  Re 
treat.'  He  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  flaring  light,  with  its 
red  letters,  pointing  it  out  as  the  place  to  which  that  gentle 
man  retreated;  but  whether  when  tipsy,  or  pursued  by 
creditors,  is  a  matter  of  some  surmise. 

Without  pausing  to  knock,  Phillips  opened  the  door  and 
walked  in.  He  was  unnoticed  by  all  except  the  stunted 
marker,  who  stared  at  him  until  he  had  firmly  established 
him  in  his  mind's  eye ;  and  then  betook  himself  to  the  duties 
of  his  office. 

Higgs  was  sitting  on  a  settee  in  one  corner  of  the  room  ; 
but  so  much  changed  in  attire,  that  Phillips  did  not  at  first 
recognize  him.     His  whole  dress  was  new,  and  surprisingly 
7* 


154  THE    ATTORNEY. 

well  chosen ;  plain,  neat,  •with,  no  attempt  at  show.  In  his 
hand  he  held  a  glass  of  some  kind  of  liquor,  with  which  he 
refreshed  himself  during  the  intervals  of  a  very  confidential 
conversation  which  he  was  holding  with  Mr.  Quagley.  It 
must  have  been  strange  as  well  as  confidential,  for  Mr.  Quag- 
ley  was  completely  overcome,  either  by  the  information  which 
was  entering  his  head  or  by  the  liquor  which  had  entered  his 
stomach.  He  nodded  wisely,  and  blinked  at  Mr.  Higgs  as 
if  an  idea  were  kindling  in  his  head,  and  would  soon  break 
out  into  a  blaze ;  but  it  smouldered  away,  and  left  nothing 
but  mist.  He  shook  his  head,  but  it  was  empty  ;  so  he  took 
to  his  liquor  in  sad  silence. 

As  soon  as  Phillips  saw  Higgs,  he  went  up  to  him.  '  I 
scarcely  knew  you,'  said  he. 

*  That 's  strange.     Most  folks  are  just  beginning  to  know 
me,  now  that  I  'm  in  luck's  way,'  replied  Higgs,  gently  raising 
his  glass  to  his  lips,  and  sipping  some  of  its  contents. 

*  Then  the  story 's  true  about  your  fortune  ? '  said  Phillips. 
'  Ya  —  as,'  replied  Mr.  Higgs,  affectedly ;  '  I  Ve  suddenly 

stepped  into  a  small  fortin.  A  respectable  elderly  gentleman 
has  been  keeping  it  for  me  these  twenty  years,'  said  he,  cross 
ing  his  legs  deliberately,  and  holding  his  tumbler  to  the  light, 
while  he  ogled  its  contents.  '  He  died  t'  other  day.  A  fine 
old  boy  he  was,  that  elderly  gentleman  ;  a  distant  sprout  of 
my  family.  I  '11  sport  a  crape  for  him  when  my  hat  grows 
shabby.  Mr.  Quagley,  a  rum-and-water  —  stiff.' 

*  Certingly,'  said  Mr.  Quagley,  bowing  low  ;  for  his  civil 
ity  had  redoubled  within  the  last  few  days. 

'  Stop ! '  said  Phillips,  abruptly ;  '  you  Ve  had  enough 
already.  I  've  that  on  hand  which  needs  a  clear  head. 
I  've  been  looking  for  you  these  two  hours ;  so  come  along.' 

'  I  'm  in  great  demand  since  the  death  of  my  elderly  rela 
tive,'  remarked  Mr.  Higgs,  placidly,  and  withourmoving ;  '  but 


THE    ATTORNEY.  155 

what 's  all  this  about  ?     Where  am  I  to  go  ?  —  what  for  ?  — 
and  would  n't  to-morrow  do  as  well  ? ' 

'No,  it  won't,'  replied  Phillips.  'You'll  learn  the  rest 
soon  enough.  Come  ! ' 

There  was  something  in  the  stern,  peremptory  manner  of 
the  young-  man  which  impressed  Higgs  in  spite  of  himself; 
so  he  rose,  and  stretching  himself,  said : 

'  Well,  if  I  must,  I  suppose  I  must.  Mr.  Quagley,  you 
may  let  that  order  for  a  rum-and-water  stand  over  till  to 
morrow  ;  or  perhaps  late  this  evening.' 

Mr.  Quagley  bowed  low,  and  placed  his  hand  where  his 
heart  should  have  been  —  on  his  stomach. 

'  Now  go  on,'  said  Higgs. 

Phillips  led  the  way  into  the  street ;  but  before  they  had 
gone  many  steps,  Higgs  came  to  his  side,  and  laying  aside 
his  previous  careless  manner,  said  : 

'  Now  then,  before  I  move  another  step,  I  must  know 
where  I  am  going,  and  for  what.  I  did  n't  insist  on  it  there,' 
said  he,  pointing  toward  the  place  which  they  had  just  left, 
'  because  there  are  things  Avhich  are  best  known  only  to  two, 
and  this  might  have  been  one  of  them ;  but  now  I  must  know 
more.' 

'  This  is  no  place  to  reveal  what  I  have  to  say,'  replied 
Phillips,  bluntly.  '  It 's  a  matter  of  little  consequence  to  me, 
but  of  much  to  you.  You  'd  better  come  along.  I  'm  only 
going  to  my  rooms.  They  're  not  far  off,  and  there  '11  be 
none  but  ourselves.  For  your  sake,  I  want  no  listeners.' 

'Go  on  ! '  said  Higgs :  ' but  the  interest  you  take  in  me 
seems  to  have  come  on  you  d d  sudden ! ' 

In  silence  they  crossed  the  Bowery,  and  reached  one  of 
the  streets  which  led  to  the  East  river.  At  the  door  of  a 
neat  wooden  building  Phillips  knocked.  It  was  opened  by 
a  girl  who  seemed  to  know  him,  and  who,  in  reply  to  an 


156  THE    ATTORNEY. 

inquiry  of  his,  informed  him  that  every  body  was  out  except 
herself.  Making  a  gesture  to  Higgs  to  follow  him,  he  led 
the  way  to  a  room  in  the  second  story,  plainly  but  comfort 
ably  furnished,  with  a  cheerful  fire  burning  on  the  hearth.  A 
small  shelf  of  books  stood  in  one  corner ;  a  clock  ticked  on 
the  mantel-piece ;  a  few  pictures  were  hung  on  the  walls,  and 
every  thing  wore  an  air  of  snugness  and  comfort. 

Phillips  placed  a  chair  for  Higgs,  who  had  not  uttered  a 
word  since  those  last  mentioned.  Higgs  sat  down,  and 
Phillips,  shutting  the  room-door,  drew  another  chair  and 
took  a  seat  facing  him,  and  so  near  to  him  that  their  knees 
nearly  touched. 

Still  Higgs  did  not  speak,  but  waited  for  him  to  go  on. 

*  I  will  come  to  the  point  at  once,'  said  Phillips. 
'  Do ! '  replied  Higgs. 

Phillips  got  up ;  trimmed  the  lamp  which  stood  on  the 
table,  and,  as  if  by  accident,  drew  it  so  that  its  light  fell  full 
in  the  face  of  his  guest. 

4  First,  I  want  a  piece  of  information,'  said  he.  '  Where 's 
Wilkins  ? ' 

1 1  do  n't  know,'  replied  Higgs,  laconically,  and  weighing 
every  question  before  he  answered  it. 

1  When  did  you  see  him  last  ? ' 

'  I  do  n't  remember.' 

4  Nor  where  ? ' 

4  No/ 

*  Can't  you  tell  me  where  I  can  find  him  ? '  inquired  Phil 
lips,  earnestly.     '  It  was  principally  on  his  account  that  I 
wanted  you.     It  will  be  worse  both  for  you  and  him,  if  I 
do  n't  find  him  soon.     Worse  than  he  and  you  dream  of.' 

'  If  that 's  all  you  want,'  said  Higgs,  coldly,  '  you  might 
have  asked  it  in  the  street.  I  could  have  told  there,  as  much 
as  I  Ve  told  you  here.' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  157 

'That  was  not  all,'  replied  Phillips.  '  You  shall  hear  the 
rest  at  once.  A  few  days  ago  a  gentleman  in  this  city  died, 
leaving  a  large  property,  and  an  only  daughter,  who  would 
by  law  have  inherited  it.  A  day  or  two  after  the  death  of 
that  gentleman,  a  lawyer  called  at  the  house  of  that  daugh 
ter  and  claimed  the  property  as  his,  and  declared  that  girl 
to  be  penniless.  He  brought  with  him  a  Will  to  support  his 
claim  ;  a  Will  signed  by  the  gentleman,  giving  his  property 
to  that  lawyer,  and  stripping  his  daughter  of  all  she  had. 
This  Will  was  witnessed  by  two  men,  who  are  to  swear  that 
they  saw  it  signed  by  that  gentleman.  The  names  of  those 
two  men  are  George  Wilkins  and  William  Higgs  ;  the 
lawyer,  Reuben  Bolton.  Perhaps  you  understand  now  what 
I  want,  and  why  I  could  n't  speak  out  in  the  street.' 

Phillips  watched  the  face  of  his  listener  with  intense 
anxiety  whilst  he  was  speaking  ;  but  not  a  muscle  moved  ; 
not  the  slightest  alteration  took  place  in  look  or  color  ;  and 
when  he  paused,  Higgs  gazed  in  the  fire,  as  if  in  deep 
thought.  At  last  he  said,  quietly,  and  without  replying 
to  Phillips's  last  words  :  *  Yes,  I  remember  something  of  the 
kind  ;  Wilkins  and  I  happened  to  be  in  Bolton's  office  when 
an  old  man  was  making  his  Will,  and  he  asked  us  to  witness 
it.  I  forget  the  old  fellow's  name.  It  was  Crawley  or  Craw- 
man,  or  some  such  name.  I  did  n't  know  till  now  what  he  'd 

done  with  his  cash.  It  was  d -d  hard  to  cut  the  girl  off 

in  that  way ; '  and  again  Higgs  gazed  in  the  fire. 

*  Then  he  did  sign  it ! '  exclaimed  Phillips,  starting  to  his 
feet. 

'  To  be  sure  he  did,'  replied  Higgs ;  '  I  saw  him.' 
'And  it  is  n't  forged  ? '  demanded  Phillips,  speaking  with 
the  greatest  rapidity. 

*  Forged ! '  exclaimed  Higgs :  '  if  it 's  forged,  he  forged  it 
himself.     Why,  who  says  it  is  ? ' 


158  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  One  who  is  willing  to  swear  to  it,  and  will.  Those  are 
the  very  words  which  that  person  used  to  me,  at  the  same 
time  begging  me  to  use  every  means  to  prevent  the  witnesses 
from  endeavoring  to  establish  it,  as  detection  and  punishment 
were  certain.' 

'Did  that  person  know  the  young  lady  —  what's  her 
name  ? '  asked  Higgs,  calmly. 

'  Miss  Crawford.' 

'Ah !  Crawford !  that 's  it ;  that  was  the  old  man's  name. 
Was  that  person  acquainted  with  Miss  Crawford  2 ' 

'  Yes.' 

'  Perhaps  a  friend  of  hers  ? '  suggested  Higgs,  in  the  same 
quiet  manner. 

'  I  know  she  was,'  replied  Phillips.     *  Well,  what  of  it  ? ' 

4  Pshaw  !  don't  you  see  it  all  ? '  exclaimed  he,  rising  from 
his  chair.  '  It 's  a  trick  of  the  girl  to  prevent  our  appearing 
to  prove  that  Will.  She  would  scare  us.  What  a  fool ! ' 

The  red  blood  rushed  into  Phillips's  face.  He  knew  little 
of  law,  and  the  thing  seemed  plausible.  Could  he  have  been 
duped,  and  by  Lucy?  Lucy  had  been  deceived  herself;  he 
was  sure  of  it.  That  there  was  no  fraud  on  the  part  of 
Bolton,  he  felt  sure ;  for  the  whole  conduct  of  Higgs  had 
been  quiet  and  self-possessed.  There  had  been  none  of  the 
embarrassment  attendant  on  detected  guilt;  and  especially 
of  guilt  which  involved  so  severe  a  punishment.  He  was 
convinced  that  the  feelings  of  Lucy  had  been  worked  on  by 
the  arts  of  Miss  Crawford,  until  they  had  led  her  astray. 
But  how  to  undeceive  her  ? 

'  That  Miss  Crawford  's  a  deep  one,'  said  Higgs,  after  a 
pause  of  some  duration.  '  How  the  devil  could  she  find  out 
that  you  knew  us,  and  set  you  to  work  at  us  ? ' 

1  That  was  easy.  There  happened  to  be  a  person  in  the 
house  who  knew  all  three  of  us.  She  accidentally  learned 


THE    ATTORNEY.  159 

the  names  of  the  witnesses,  knew  me,  and  asked  me  to  see 
you  and  Wilkins.  Why  she  thinks  it  forged,  is  more  than 
I  can  tell.' 

*  Who  was  she  ? '  inquired  Higgs. 

'  No  matter  who,'  replied  Phillips  ;  '  I  am  not  bound  to 
secresy,  but  I  shall  keep  her  name  to  myself.' 

Higgs  nodded  acquiescence;  and  after  humming  a  low 
tune  to  himself  for  a  few  moments,  asked  if  he  had  any  thing 
farther  to  say  ;  and  receiving  an  answer  in  the  negative,  he 
wished  him  good-night,  and  withdrew. 


160  THE    ATTORNEY 


CHAPTER     XV. 

IT  was  a  bright  afternoon  ;  and  the  golden  sun-beams 
came  flooding  into  the  windows  of  the  attorney's  office, 
forcing  their  glad  light  through  the  dingy  panes,  and  over 
tables,  books,  and  walls.  It  was  a  rich,  warm  sun-shine, 
such  as  cheers  the  heart.  Thousands  of  little  motes,  the 
very  dust  of  the  earth,  were  revelling  in  its  beams ;  rising 
and  falling,  dancing,  whirling  hither  and  thither,  up  and 
down,  and  sporting  like  things  glad  of  life.  The  old  room 
had  a  cheerful  look  that  was  not  natural  to  it.  The  very 
spiders  that  had  nestled  in  its  crevices  for  months,  startled 
at  the  strong  light,  stole  off  to  dark  corners,  and  doubling 
themselves  into  knots,  seemed  to  wonder  what  was  to  come 
next.  High  in  the  heavens  rode  that  sun,  and  over  all  came 
its  glorious  rays,  shining  in  crack  and  cranny  ;  over  ruined 
house-tops  and  in  damp,  dark  court-yards,  brightening  the 
homes  of  the  wretched,  and  gilding  the  graves  of  the  dead. 
How  many  were  revelling  in  its  beams  !  The  rich  and  the 
poor  ;  the  sick  and  the  healthful ;  the  strong  and  the  feeble. 
It  was  a  glad  sun  to  each  ;  and  it  shone  alike  on  all.  Gold 
could  not  buy  it ;  poverty  could  not  exclude  it.  It  is  one  of 
God's  gifts,  of  which  he  allows  no  monopoly.  It  is  to  cheer 
the  path  of  all,  and  to  serve  too  often  as  fire  and  raiment  for 
the  poor. 

It  doubtless  had  its  effect  upon  the  attorney's  clerk,  who 
was  lolling  out  at  one  of  the  windows,  regaling  himself  with 
a  prospect  of  two  brick  walls,  and  a  distant  view  of  a  dead 
tree,  which  formed  the  back-ground  of  a  narrow  alley.  He 


THE    ATTORNEY.  161 

seemed  uncommonly  merry,  and  not  a  little  inclined  to  mis 
chief.  He  ran  his  eye  up  and  down  the  stone  wall  opposite ; 
examined  the  dead  tree ;  but  nothing  offered  worthy  of 
attention.  He  then  rose,  and  deliberately  threw  several 
pieces  of  coal  over  unknown  house-tops,  whose  jagged  chim 
neys  frowned  upon  the  yard,  in  the  hope  that  the  jingling 
of  broken  glass  might  follow  as  an  indication  that  this  on 
slaught  upon  some  unseen  window  had  been  successful. 
Being  disappointed  in  this,  and  having  caught  sight  of  a 
small  baby  in  a  distant  window,  he  was  in  the  act  of  pro 
ducing  several  violent  contortions  of  countenance,  for  the 
desirable  purpose  of  reducing  the  said  baby  to  tears,  when 
he  was  called  to  himself  by  a  sharp  application  from  behind, 
which  felt  as  if  it  might  have  come  from  a  foot.  The  clerk 
jerked  in  his  head  to  see  who  had  favored  him  with  this 
abrupt  summons. 

'  Oh  !  you  are  at  home,  my  bu'ster,  are  you  ?  I  thought 
I  'd  knock  and  inquire.' 

This  speech  came  from  a  stunted  boy  with  a  square  mouth, 
who  was  leaning  leisurely  against  the  back  of  a  chair.  A 
small  cap  was  stuck  jauntily  on  the  side  of  his  head,  and  one 
hand  was  resting  on  his  hip,  the  other  being  fully  occupied 
in  holding  in  the  slack  of  his  trousers,  which  had  got  con 
siderably  the  start  of  him  in  size. 

'  Where  's  the  Boss  ? '  said  he,  after  pausing  a  moment  to 
enjoy  the  surprise  of  the  clerk.  '  I  want  him.' 

'  Hats  off  is  manners ;  caps  off  is  manners  too,'  replied 
Tom,  saluting  the  side  of  the  boy's  head  with  a  small  ruler, 
which  sent  the  cap  to  the  far  end  of  the  office. 

The  stunted  marker  was  too  much  accustomed  to  scuffles 
and  blows,  not  to  be  prepared  for  all  emergencies  of  that 
nature ;  and  the  clerk  was  too  much  delighted  at  the  pros 
pect  of  a  recreation  of  any  kind  to  care  much  in  what  shape 


162  THE    ATTORNEY. 

it  came.  So,  after  describing  several  circles  around  each 
other,  brandishing  their  fists  and  elbows  in  the  usual  atti 
tudes  recognized  by  standard  authorities,  by  way  of  showing 
their  science,  at  it  they  went,  rough-and-tumble,  over  the 
floor,  upsetting  chairs,  desks,  and  table ;  scattering  papers, 
and  bring  down  clouds  of  dust  which  had  slept  undisturbed 
for  years.  While  the  battle  was  at  its  height,  a  man's  step 
in  the  lower  passage  caught  the  ear  of  both  boys. 

'By  thunder !  it 's  the  Boss  ! '  cried  the  clerk ;  'jump  up 
quick ;  put  the  chairs  up,  while  I  fix  the  papers  and  tables. 
Bustle!  bustle!' 

The  apprehension  of  the  clerk  was  one  in  which  the  boy 
fully  sympathized.  The  battle  ceased  instantly,  and  by  dint 
of  the  united  efforts  of  the  two,  the  office  had  resumed  its 
usual  appearance  ;  the  clerk  was  reading  violently,  and  the 
stunted  marker,  though  somewhat  heated,  was  modestly  sit 
ting  on  a  chair  in  one  corner,  with  his  cap  resting  on  his 
knees,  when  the  door  opened,  and  Bolton  walked  in. 

When  he  saw  the  boy,  he  stopped  and  looked  at  him,  as 
much  as  to  ask  what  he  wanted  ;  for  few  people  called  there 
without  an  object. 

The  boy  understood  the  look,  and  recovering  something 
of  his  usual  effrontery,  asked,  though  without  rising  from 
his  chair : 

'Are  you  the  Governor  ?  cos  if  you  are,  I  've  got  somethin' 
for  you.  If  you  a'  n't,  I'll  wait  till  he  comes.' 

'  My  name  is  Bolton,  if  you  want  me,'  replied  the  attorney, 
eyeing  him  with  some  surprise. 

The  boy  took  off  his  cap  and  felt  in  the  lining,  from  be 
neath  which  he  drew  a  letter. 

'  Reuben  Bolton,  Esquire,  Lawyer  at  Law,  etc.,  etc.,'  said 
he,  reading  the  superscription.     '  Is  that  you  ? ' 
•  '  Yes.' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  163 

*  Very  well ;  then  you  can  take  it,'  said  he,  reaching  it  out 
from  where  he  sat.  '  It  came  from  a  gen'leman  named 
Hiirgs  ;  and  he  wants  an  answer  :  so  just  be  spry  in  reading 
it,  will  you  ?  cos  I  'm  in  a  hurry.' 

Having  thus  delivered  himself,  the  boy  thrust  a  thumb  in 
each  pocket  of  his  jacket,  and  commenced  whistling  with  a 
shrillness  which  caused  the  attorney,  after  a  vain  attempt  to 
look  him  into  silence,  to  hurry  into  the  back-room  and  shut 
the  door. 

No  sooner  was  the  door  shut  than  the  clerk  turned  to  the 
boy  with  an  approving  grin,  and  asked  : 

'  What 's  your  name  2 ' 

'  Charles  Draddy,  Esquire,'  responded  the  other,  breaking 
off  his  tune  only  to  answer,  and  then  resuming  it  as  vehe 
mently  as  ever. 

'  Well,  you  are  a  great  one,  you  are,'  said  Tom,  strength 
ening  his  remarks  with  an  encouraging  nod  :  '  There  a'  n't 
many  would  a-dared  to  have  whistled  at  him  as  you.  He 's 
a  snorter  when  he 's  riz.' 

'  Pshaw  ! '  replied  the  stunted  marker  ;  '  he  a'  n't  nothin', 
he  a'  n't ;  but  if  you  could  only  see  Dick  White  when  he 's 
tight  up ;  or  Lankey  Jim,  arter  four  cock-tails  and  a  rum- 
and- water,  quite  weak  —  that's  all ;  only  see  them,  and  you 
would  n't  even  look  at  the. chops  of  that  'ere  'spectable  gen 
'leman  in  the  other  room.  My  eyes  !  he  a' n't  nothin'  to 
them: 

Having  given  vent  to  his  admiration  of  the  two  gentle 
men  just  mentioned,  he  resumed  his  whistling,  from  which 
no  observation  of  the  clerk  could  induce  him  to  desist,  and 
who  could  obtain  no  other  reply  to  all  his  questions  than  a 
nod,  a  wink,  or  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

In  a  short  time  Bolton  opened  the  door  and  beckoned  to 
the  boy  to  come  in. 


164  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Do  you  know  Mr.  Higgs  ? ' 

The  boy  nodded. 

'Well?' 

'  Do  n't  I  ? '  said  the  boy.     *  I  guess  I  do.' 

'  When  will  you  see  him  ? ' 

'  When  I  go  back.     He 's  waiting  where  I  come  from.' 

Bolton  drew  out  his  watch,  looked  at  the  hour,  put  it  badk 
in  his  pocket,  took  up  a  piece  of  paper  as  if  to  write  ;  then 
threw  it  down,  and  said  : 

1  Tell  him  to  be  here  in  two  hours  ;  that 's  all.     Go.' 

Notwithstanding  the  boy's  natural  effrontery,  there  was 
something  in  the  stern,  peremptory  manner  of  the  lawyer 
so  different  from  what  he  had  been  accustomed  to,  that  he 
shut  the  door,  and  left  the  office  without  remark  ;  unless  a 
jerk  with  which  he  favored  the  hair  of  the  clerk  as  he  went 
out,  might  be  viewed  in  the  light  of  a  passing  observation. 
Having  got  in  the  entry,  he  gave  vent  to  one  or  two 
unearthly  yells,  went  through  the  intricacies  of  a  dance 
somewhat  between  a  Scotch  reel  and  a  nautical  horn-pipe, 
delivered  himself  of  one  or  two  other  frivolities  of  an  extra 
ordinary  nature,  and  then  quietly  walked  down  stairs  and 
took  the  shortest  route  to  *  Quagley's  Retreat,'  where  he  ex 
pected  to  find  Mr.  Higgs. 

No  sooner  was  the  boy  gone,  than  Bolton  took  up  the  note 
and  read  it  again.  It  was  paradoxical  enough,  and  worded 
with  the  elegance  peculiar  to  the  gentleman  who  wrote  it. 
It  ran  thus : 

'DEAR  SIR:  I'm  afraid  your  cake's  dough.  I  think  we 
are  smoked.  If  we  are,  we  're  dished  too,  and  there 's  an 
end  of  it.  But  perhaps  it  was  only  a  fetch,  and  I  'm  halloo 
ing  before  I'm  hurt.  If  so,  all  he  got  out  of  me  won't  in- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  165 

crease  his  wisdom  much.     I  want  to  see  you.   When  can  I  ? 
Send  me  word  by  the  bearer. 

'  WILLIAM  HIGGS.' 

Unintelligible  as  this  was,  it  was  sufficient  to  drive  the 
blood  from  the  cheek  of  the  lawyer.  'Another  blow  too,  on 
the  back  of  what  came  to-day  ! '  muttered  he.  '  Can  it  be 
that  I  am  to  fail  now  !  I,  who  have  hatched  so  much  mis 
chief,  threaded  so  many  dangers !  —  I,  who  have  walked 
firmly  where  other  men  trembled ;  who  never  feared  man 
nor  God  nor  law !  —  /to  fail  now  ! ' 

He  looked  suspiciously  about  him,  as  if  the  very  walls 
might  tell  tales.  Could  they  have  spoken,  he  might  well 
have  feared  ;  for  many  a  dark  plot,  many  a  scene  of  sorrow 
and  of  sin  would  they  have  disclosed.  Men  would  have  been 
astounded  to  think  that  a  single  individual,  flesh  and  blood 
like  themselves,  could  have  worked  so  much  harm.  Men 
who  had  once  been  rich  crept  away  from  there  beggars  ;  and 
females  who,  glad  and  unsuspecting  of  heart,  had  accidental 
ly  fallen  in  his  way,  had  gradually  grown  poorer  and  poorer, 
until,  stripped  of  every  thing,  in  very  desperation  they  had 
become  outcasts,  without  hope,  and  beyond  redemption. 
Ruin,  starvation,  crime  and  death  followed  in  the  wake  of  that 
single  man,  like  jackals  on  the  track  of  a  beast  of  prey.  But 
he  had  long  since  become  callous.  He  had  dealt  so  long  in 
crime  that  he  thought  the  rest  of  the  world  like  himself ; 
that  to  plot,  to  deceive,  and  to  beggar  was  the  aim  of  all. 

Within  two  hours  after  the  departure  of  the  boy,  Higgs 
made  his  appearance.  Nodding  familiarly  to  the  clerk, 
whom  he  had  never  seen  before,  he  went  to  the  door  of  the 
back-room,  opened  it,  entered  and  closed  it  after  him. 

The  attorney  pointed  to  a  chair ;  and  no  sooner  was  ha 
seated  than  he  took  up  his  note  and  handed  it  to  him. 


166  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  What  does  it  mean  ? '  demanded  he.  '  It 's  a  riddle 
which  I  can't  solve.' 

'  Is  the  young  gentleman  in  the  outer  office  in  your  confi 
dence  ?'  inquired  Mr.  Higgs,  in  reply  to  the  question.  '  He 
a'  n't  in  mine,  and  I  do  n't  want  him  to  be.' 

Bolton  got  up  and  spoke  a  few  words  to  the  boy,  who 
nodded,  and  taking  his  hat,  went  out. 

*  He 's  gone  for  an  hour  at  least,'  said  he,  returning  and 
seating  himself.     *  Now — that  letter  ? '     Iliggs  could  be  as 
concise  and  clear  as  any  one  when  he  thought  fit ;  and  he 
gave  an  account  of  his  interview  with  Phillips,  detailing  the 
conversation  word  for  word. 

The  attorney  listened  without  a  single  remark  or  a  single 
question.  The  statement  was  so  full,  yet  concise,  so  plain 
and  straightforward,  that  it  left  nothing  untold ;  and  Bolton 
for  the  first  time  knew  the  character  of  the  man  whom  he 
had  to  deal  with,  and  the  cause  of  the  implicit  confidence 
with  which  Wilkins  had  recommended  him,  and  which  he 
appeared  to  feel  in  his  abilities. 

'  That 's  all,'  said  Higgs,  as  he  finished.  '  If  I  talked  an 
hour  I  could  tell  no  more.' 

Saying  this,  he  leaned  back  in  the  chair,  and  folding  his 
arms,  watched  the  countenance  of  the  lawyer  with  a  keen, 
inquisitive  eye. 

'  Did  he  give  you  no  hint  who  this  woman  was? ' 

Higgs  shook  his  head. 

*  Have  you  no  suspicions  ? ' 
'None.' 

*  Can  it  be  a  trick  of  this  girl's  to  drive  us  off  ?     If  so,  it 
is  flimsy  enough.     This  Phillips  might  have  lied  too.' 

Higgs  shook  his  head.  '  Phillips  won't  lie.  I  know  that 
much.  When  he 's  wrong,  it 's  because  he  's  deceived  him 
self.  All  of  us  may  be  at  times.  If  this  is  a  trick,  he  do  n't 
know  it.' 


TEE    ATTORNEY.  167 

1  Then,  Mr.  Higgs,'  said  Bolton,  in  a  low,  calm  voice,  which 
contrasted  strongly  with  the  excited  manner  in  which  he  had 
hitherto  spoken,  and  becoming  pale  and  red  in  the  same 
instant :  '  Wilkins  must  have  betrayed  us.' 

Iliscofs  did  not  answer  for  some  time.     Then  he  said :  '  I 

oo 

do  n't  believe  it.  He 's  not  the  man  to  blow  on  a  comrade. 
He  gets  strange  freaks,  and  is  as  mad  as  a  bedlamite  at 
times,  but  never  mad  enough  for  that.  He  knows  me  too 
well  to  do  that,'  said  he,  sternly.  And  again  the  attorney 
saw  in  his  face  that  cold,  savage  expression  which  had  once 
before  made  his  flesh  creep.  '  No,  no  ;  no  fear  of  that.  But 
I  'm  puzzled,  I  must  confess.'  There  was  a  dead  pause,  in 
which  these  two  confederates  sat  looking  each  other  in  the 
eyes. 

*  You  understand  the  law,'  said  Higgs,  at  last ;  '  I  do  n't. 
Let  me  hear  the  Will ;  perhaps  I  may  think  of  something 
which  do  n't  strike  you.' 

Bolton  got  the  Will,  and  sitting  down,  read  it  from  begin 
ning  to  end. 

*  That 's  all  right  in  law,  is  it  ? '  demanded  Higgs. 
Bolton  nodded. 

*  Cuts  her  off  without  a  copper  ? ' 
'  She  '11  have  nothing.' 

*  Then  how  can  she  law  it  ?     Law  is  n't  made  for  poor 
people.' 

*  Perhaps  she  has  friends  who  will  stand  by  her.' 

*  'T  ain't  the  way  of  the  world  :  they  stand  by  people  who 
are  going  into  fortunes,  not  out  of  'em,'  said  Higgs.    He  took 
up  a  roll  of  paper  and  commenced  drumming  with  it  on  the 
table,  while  the  attorney,  usually  so  shrewd  and  ready,  stood 
in  front  of  him  with  his^eyes  fixed  on  his  face,  as  if  he  ex 
pected  to  find  in  his  cold,  unmoved  features  some  indication 
of  the  thoughts  at  work  in  his  brain. 


168  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Illegitimate,  illegitimate,'  muttered  he.  *  That  I  suppose 
is  all  gammon.' 

Bolton  looked  at  him  with  a  sharp,  cautious,  irresolute  eye, 
but  did  not  answer. 

'  That 's  enough  ;  need  n't  say  a  word  more,'  said  Higgs, 
reading  the  glance.  '  I  suspected  as  much.  Another  little 
item  in  the  general  bill.  But  I  do  n't  see  the  use  of  it. 
Suppose  she  is  a  bastard  ?  What  then  ?  How  does  it  help 
you  ? ' 

'A  natural  child  can't  inherit.' 

1  Well,  suppose  she  can't  ?     Can  you  ?  ' 

'  No,  not  without  the  Will,'  replied  Bolton.  *  But  once 
prove  to  her  that  she  cannot  gain,  even  though  I  do  not, 
and  there  will  be  no  object  in  her  contesting  the  matter. 
There  is  no  other  kin  or  next  of  kin,  for  she  was  the  only 
relative  he  had  on  earth.  If  I  proved  her  illegitimacy,  I 
would  then  pretend  to  feel  for  her  desolate  situation,  and 
make  her  a  present  of  ten  thousand  or  so  ;  that  would  effect 
ually  keep  her  quiet ;  for  she  would  know  that  by  proving 
I  had  no  right  to  her  father's  property,  she  would  also  prove 
I  had  no  right  to  the  money  which  I  had  so  generously 
handed  over  to  her.' 

'  There  's  a  good  deal  in  that,'  said  Higgs,  rubbing  his 
hands  as  if  he  fully  appreciated  the  merits  of  the  scheme. 
4 But  can  you  convince  her?  Some  women  are  awful  in 
credulous  ;  and  if  you  can't  keep  her  quiet,  can  you  satisfy 
the  doubts  of  those  who  '11  try  it  ? ' 

The  attorney  clenched  his  fist  and  struck  it  on  the  table 
with  a  force  that  made  it  rattle  ;  his  eyes  flashed ;  and  as 
Higgs  looked  in  them,  be  fancied  that  he  could  see  through 
them  deep  into  his  very  brain,  which  seemed  on  fire,  too,  as 
he  answered : 

*  No !  I  cannot.     From  what  that  besotted  old  fool  her 


THE    ATTORNEY.  169 

father  let  drop  while  he  lived,  about  the  private  manner  in 
which  he  was  married,  and  about  the  death  of  those  who  saw 
it,  and  about  his  having  lost  the  certificate ;  with  none  to 
thwart  me  but  a  silly  girl,  I  felt  as  if  houses,  lands,  and  gold 
were  in  my  grasp.  For  months  I  've  had  my  eye  on  the 
traces  of  those  who  witnessed  the  marriage ;  made  inquiries 
in  every  direction,  and  felt  sure  that  they  were  in  their 
graves ;  ay,  dead  and  crumbled  to  dust.  On  that  supposi 
tion  I  set  to  work  ;  drew  up  that  Will ;  waited  till  the  old 
man  died ;  went*with  it  to  the  girl ;  advanced  my  claim,  and 
boldly  asserted  her  illegitimacy.  To-day  !  to-day ! '  exclaimed 
he,  gasping  as  he  spoke,  and  shaking  both  hands  over  his 
head  like  a  man  in  a  frenzy ;  '  this  very  day,  Avhen  I  am 
committed  beyond  redemption ;  when  I  have  unmasked  my 
self,  and  there  is  no  retreat ;  one  of  these  very  witnesses  springs 
up,  as  if  from  hell  itself;  seeks  me  out ;  says  he  hears  that  1 
have  been  looking  for  him,  and  would  be  glad  to  know  what 
I  want  ?  I  could  have  killed  him  !  —  I  could  have  murdered 
him  on  the  spot ! ' 

He  strode  rapidly  up  and  down  the  room,  muttering  to 
himself  and  clenching  his  hands  together,  as  if  he  had  the 
object  of  his  wrath  in  his  grasp.  Passions  fierce  as  a  whirl 
wind  had  got  the  better  of  him,  and  it  was  some  time  before 
he  could  master  them.  When  he  did,  he  paused  opposite 
Higgs,  still  trembling  with  excitement,  but  said  not  a  word. 

'  Was  the  witness  old  or  young  ? '  at  length  inquired 
Higgs. 

'  Old  enough  to  have  been  in  his  grave  years  ago.  He 
tottered  as  he  came  through  the  entry,  and  was  sick  and 
ghastly,  as  if  he  had  just  started  from  his  coffin  to  cross  me.1 

Higgs  rested  his  head  on  his  hand,  and  then  asked, 
*  What 's  the  punishment  if  we  trip  up  ? ' 

8 


1*70  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  Ten  years'  hard  labor,  at  least,'  replied  Bolton ;  *  at  least 
that.  Curse  him  !  —  curse  him  ! ' 

Higgs  again  rested  his  head  on  his  hand  and  mused. 
*  Was  he  sickly  ?  —  very  sickly  ? '  inquired  he,  in  the  same 
low  tone.     '  Did  he  look  as  if  he  'd  go  soon  ? ' 
'  He  might  at  any  moment.' 

'  Perhaps  he  will,'  said  Higgs ;  'perhaps  he  will.'' 
He  reached  out  his  hand,  took  the  attorney  by  the  collar, 
drew  him  down  to  him,  and  whispered  in  his  ear :  '  I  know 
he  will ;  don't  you ? ' 

Bolton  started  up,  glared  at  him,  drew  back;  his  face 
became  ghastly  white  ;  his  heart  beat  till  it  could  be  heard ; 
then  the  burning  blood  came  dashing  through  his  veins,  over 
head  and  temples,  and  darting  through  his  brain  like  liquid 
fire. 

'No,  no!  not  that!'  gasped  he.  'No,  I  cannot  —  I  can 
not  !  I  can  stand  imprisonment,  if  it  comes  to  that ;  but  I 
can't  die ! ' 

'Well,  have  it  your  own  way,'  replied  Higgs,  carelessly. 
*  I  Ve  no  taste  for  it  myself.  I  've  never  dabbled  in  things 
of  the  kind,  and  as  a  general  rule  would  as  lief  not ;  but 
when  the  State-prison  ogles  a  fellow  in  the  face,  it 's  different ; 
but  we  must  think  of  something  else.' 

Bolton  was  completely  unnerved.     There  was  something 
in  the  cold,  indifferent  manner  in  which  his  confederate  sug 
gested  murder,  that  made  his  very  heart  thrill  with  fear. 
Higgs,  however,  did  not  follow  up  his  suggestion,  but  asked : 
'  What's  the  old  man's  fortune  ? ' 
'About  two  hundred  thousand,'  replied  Bolton. 
'  Is  the  girl  married  ? ' 
'No.' 

'Good-looking?' 
4  Very.' 


TiIE    ATTORNEY.  Ill 

Got  an  eye  on  any  one  ? '  inquired  Higgs. 

'  Not  that  I  know  of.'  * 

'  Have  you  a  lovely  wife  or  an  interesting  family  ? ' 

*  No,  none.' 

'  Then,  by  G-d! '  exclaimed  Higgs,  starting  to  his  feet,  'I 
have  it!  You  must  marry  her  yourself!  That  will  settle 
the  whole  matter.  You  must  saddle  yourself  with  a  wife ; 
get  the  cash,  and  hush  up  all  difficulties.  She  '11  snap  at  the 
chance  of  marrying  you.  You  '11  both  gain  your  end,  and 
this  awkward  little  matter  will  never  come  to  light.  I  do  n't 
pretend  to  be  squeamish,  but  for  my  part  I  'd  rather  it 
should  n't.' 

Bolton  folded  his  arms,  and  stood  in  deep  thought.  At 
last  he  said  :  '  It 's  plausible  ;  and  the  girl 's  not  amiss  :  but 
it 's  too  late.  The  time  's  too  short.' 

'  Pshaw  ! '  exclaimed  Higgs  ;  '  what  do  you  want  of  time  ? 
Go.  at  once,  this  very  day;  before  she  speaks  to  any  one 
about  this  Will ;  and  before  she  has  published  you  to  all  the 
world  as  a  scoundrel.  She  could  n't  marry  you  after  that. 
It  a' n't  a  courtship  ;  it 's  a  bargain  :  although  neither  of  you 
say  so.  She  takes  you  to  save  her  money  ;  you  take  her  to 
get  it  without  a  law-suit.  Both  of  you  understand  it,  al 
though  mum  's  the  word  between  you.  That 's  it !  that 's 
it ! '  And  Mr.  Higgs,  in  the  excess  of  his  joy,  gave  vent  to 
a  loud  shout,  and  actually  danced  a  gentle  hornpipe  around 
the  office. 

4 1  swear  I  '11  try  it ! '  exclaimed  Bolton. 

'  To  be  sure  you  will ! '  said  Higgs ;  '  of  course  you  will ! 
Be  about  it  at  once.  It 's  almost  dark  ;  that 's  better  than 
daylight,  if  you  should  happen  to  change  color.  If  you  agree 
on  the  spot,  it  '11  settle  the  question  of  illegitimacy  at  once. 
Be  oily  with  her.  Women  like  a  greasy  tongue  ;  but  go  it 
strong,  and  marry  her  at  once  —  to-night,  if  you  can.  It 's 


172  THE    ATTORNEY. 

astonishing  how  a  marriage  will  hush  up  various  awkward 
little  matters.     "Where  does  she  live  ? ' 
Bolton  mentioned  the  place. 

*  I  '11  be  there  to  hear  your  luck,'  said  Higgs,  taking  his  " 
hat.    '  Good-bye ! ' 

*  Stop  I '  said  the  attorney,  who  was  not  so  sanguine  as  his 
companion  ;    '  where  's  Wilkins  ?    I  have  n't  seen  him  since 
we  last  met  here.' 

'  I  met  him  once.  He 's  a  queer  one.  He  looked  as  if  he 
would  eat  me  when  I  spoke  of  his  wife,  and  walked  off  with 
out  even  answering  me.' 

'  Bring  him  along.  I  expect  to  fail ;  and  we  might  as  well 
be  prepared  for  what 's  to  be  done  next.' 

Higgs  assented  ;  and  having  already  bade  him  good-bye, 
walked  off  without  repeating  the  ceremony. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  173 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

EARLY  the  next  morning  there  was  a  violent  ring  at  the 
door  of  Miss  Crawford's  house,  and  a  letter  was  left  for  Lucy. 
It  came  from  Phillips,  informing  her  that  he  had  seen  Higgs, 
and  was  sure  that  she  was  mistaken  in  supposing  the  Will 
to  be  a  forgery ;  and  begging  to  see  her,  that  he  might  tell 
her  all  that  he  had  heard.  He  would  not  come  without  her 
consent.  And  that  was  all.  She  read  it  through,  folded  it 
up,  and  placed  it  in  her  bosom.  She  knew  that  Phillips  was 
deceived,  and  there  seemed  no  hope  left. 

lHe  has  given  out  too  ! '  said  she,  in  a  low,  broken  voice. 
( God  help  me !  for  George  has  no  one  left  now  but  me.' 

She  went  up  to  her  own  room,  drew  a  chair  to  the  table, 
and  clasping  her  hands  together,  leaned  her  head  upon  them, 
and  endeavored  to  think.  Thoughts  came  fast  and  troubled 
enough ;  but  they  gradually  settled  down  into  one  strong 
purpose,  that  of  seeking  him,  wherever  he  might  be ;  of 
bearing  with  every  thing,  and  of  never  giving  up  until  she 
found  him. 

She  rose  up,  took  down  her  hat  and  shawl,  and  prepared 
to  go  out.  She  spent  a  few  moments  at  her  toilette  ;  added 
one  or  two  ornaments  which  Wilkins  had  given  her  long 
before,  and  which  she  always  wore.  There  was  little  indeed 
to  arrange ;  for  her  well-worn  dress,  faded  and  mended  in 
many  places,  and  miserably  thin,  showed  that  she  was  one 
of  the  '  very  poor ; '  and  God  knows  that  they  have  little  to 
do  with  ornament.  But  she  remembered  that  Wilkins  had 
once  been  proud  of  her  beauty  ;  and  she  was  not  willing  to 


174  THE    ATTORNEY. 

believe  that  that  time  had  passed  for  ever.  Whatever  he 
had  fancied  or  praised  in  happier  hours,  she  thought  of  now : 
and  Hope  whispered  that  when  he  saw  her  he  might  think 
of  old  times,  might  ask  her  to  come  back  to  their  snug  old 
home,  and  might  say  that  he  regretted  the  past,  and  might 
beg  her  to  forgive  and  forget  it.  How  her  heart  leaped  at 
the  thought !  How  the  mild,  patient  face  beneath  that  o]d 
bonnet  brightened !  And  as  she  stole  down  the  stairs  there 
was  a  smile  on  her  cheek,  and  a  feeling  of  happiness  in  her 
heart,  that  seemed  like  the  dawning  of  brighter  days.  She 
was  a  long  way  off  from  where  they  had  lived ;  but  she 
hurried  on.  She  felt  stronger  than  she  had  for  weeks,  and 
her  step  was  lighter.  If  the  thought  of  a  harsh  reception 
sometimes  crossed  her,  she  chased  it  away.  She  thought  that 
if  she  could  but  see  him  ;  free  him  from  the  influence  of  that 
dreaded  man,  and  know  that  he  was  safe  ;  even  then,  if  he 
drove  her  from  him,  she  would  lie  down  amid  her  with 
ered  hopes,  and  die  without  a  murmur,  for  there  would  be 
nothing  left  to  live  for ;  and  perhaps  when  she  was  dead  and 
in  her  grave,  and  out  of  his  way,  he  would  think  kindly  of 
her ;  and  although  she  would  not  know  it,  or  care  for  it 
then,  still  there  was  a  sad  pleasure  in  the  thought. 

But  Fate  has  a  strange  way  of  interfering  with  the  plans 
of  all.  It  takes  its  course  of  mingled  storm  and  sun-shine ; 
thwarting  the  best-devised  projects  ;  blighting  hopes  ;  bring 
ing  happiness  where  all  was  despair ;  crushing  bright  hearts 
to  the  very  dust ;  but  onward,  for  ever  onward  ;  never  paus 
ing,  never  resting ;  carrying  plotting,  scheming,  restless, 
rebellious  man  in  its  giant  arms. 

At  the  very  time  that  Lucy  was  standing  in  her  little 
room,  thinking  only  of  him,  Wilkins  was  pacing  up  and  down 
the  walk  in  front  of  his  house,  in  a  mood  which,  had  she 
seen  it,  would  have  scattered  her  day-dreams  to  the  winds. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  175 

Up  and  down  that  walk  lie  went,  casting  fierce  glances  along 
the  street,  and  muttering  to  himself.  So  wasted  and  thin 
had  he  become,  —  his  eyes  sunken,  and  glowing  like  two 
globes  of  fire  deep  in  his  head ;  and  his  whole  frame  emaci 
ated,  as  if  the  spirit  were  too  strong  for  the  body,  —  that  his 
wife  would  scarcely  have  recognized  him. 

Presently  a  cart  drove  around  the  corner  and  stopped  in 
front  of  his  house.  Wilkins  strode  up  to  the  man,  and 
shaking  his  fist  in  his  face,  said  : 

'  Is  this  what  you  call  speed  ?  I  spoke  to  you  more  than 
an  hour  ago  ;  and  did  n't  you  say  you'd  come  right  off? ' 

The  man  looked  at  him  as  if  in  doubt  what  to  make  of 
him  ;  then  took  off  his  cap,  drew  out  a  cotton  handkerchief, 
wiped  his  face  very  hard,  after  which  he  rolled  his  handker 
chief  in  a  ball,  flung  it  back  in  his  cap,  put  his  cap  on  by  a 
dexterous  jerk  at  its  leathern  front,  and  muttered  something 
about  his  horse  not  having  been  fed,  and  that  he  had  waited 
for  that. 

'  Curse  you,  and  your  horse  too  ! '  muttered  Wilkins  ; 
'  nobody 's  in  a  hurry  now  but  me  —  nobody  but  me  ;  and 
every  thing  is  driving,  pushing,  tearing  at  me  all  at  once. 
Come  on  now,  w7ill  you  ? '  said  he  to  the  carter,  who,  having 
jumped  off  his  cart,  stood  staring  at  him,  and  wondering 
what  sort  of  a  customer  he  had  picked  up.  'Jam  your 
wheel  against  the  curb-stone,  so  as  to  load  without  trouble. 
There ;  now  come  along.' 

He  turned  to  the  house,  followed  by  the  man,  half  sullen 
and  half  intimidated  at  his  savage  temper.  Wilkins  walked 
straight  to  the  door  of  his  room ;  and  finding  it  locked,  with 
out  uttering  a  single  word,  or  searching  for  the  key,  dashed 
it  open  with  his  foot.  He  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
strode  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  seating  himself  on  the 
table,  commenced  gazing  about  him,  whistling,  and  swinging 


176  THE    ATTORNEY. 

his  feet  to  and  fro,  without  speaking.  The  oartman  stopped 
just  inside  of  the  door,  waiting  for  orders.  '  What  am  I  to 
take  ? '  he  at  length  inquired. 

Wilkins  looked  at  him,  as  if  lie  had  forgotten  that  he  was 
there,  and  wondered  what  he  wanted.  Then  he  sprang  across 
the  room,  seized  a  chair,  and  flung  it  violently  down  in  front 
of  him. 

'Take  that  —  and  that  —  and  that ! '  shouted  he,  dragging 
forward  article  after  article,  and  pushing  them  toward  him, 
as  if  he  would  have  shoved  them  over  his  very  body.  There 's 
your  work.  Be  about  it,  will  you  ? ' 

The  man  seized  the  things,  and  hurried  them  into  the 
street,  glad  to  get  out  of  the  room.  He  went  out,  and  re 
turned  several  times,  until  he  had  taken  all  that  had  been 
pointed  out.  Then  he  paused,  and  asked  what  was  to  go  next. 

*  Every  thing  !  every  thing  ! '  exclaimed  Wilkins.      '  I  '11 
make  a  home  for  her  ;  a  home  such  as  those  have  who  pray 
to  God  night  and  day  to  kill  them  !   Take  every  thing  ;  beds, 
table,  chairs  —  all.     Do  n't  leave  a  stick  or  rag,  or  a  coal  of 
fire  to  keep  her  from  freezing.' 

The  cartman  dragged  the  heavy  table  across  the  floor. 

'  Out  with  it ! '  shouted  Wilkins,  pushing  it  along.  '  You  're 
as  weak  as  a  child.' 

He  shoved  it  into  the  entry,  and  then  returned  to  the 
room.  The  cupboard  happened  to  catch  his  eye,  and  he 
jerked  the  doors  violently  open.  A  bottle  half  full  of  brandy 
stood  on  the  shelf.  He  took  it  down,  emptied  its  contents 
into  a  cup,  and  drank  them  off  as  if  they  had  been  water. 

*  Brandy 's  nothing,  now-a-days.  All  here,'  said  he,  thump 
ing  his  fist  against  his  breast,  '  is  so  hot  and  burning,  that 
every  thing  feels  cool  now.     What ! '  cried  he,  seeing  the 
man  again  entering  the  room,  '  you  want  more,  do  you  ? 
More  —  always  more !     That 's  right  —  that 's  right ! ' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  177 

The  liquor  seemed  to  have  maddened  him.  He  sprang 
on  the  bed  ;  dragged  it  to  the  floor  ;  dashed  with  it  into  the 
street,  and  flung  it  on  the  cart.  He  muttered  as  he  went, 
'that  if  she  did  come  back,  she  should  find  an  empty  house;' 
and  as  he  thought  of  that,  he  laughed  and  shouted  and 
swore,  rushing  around  the  room,  seizing  different  movables, 
and  casting  them  into  the  street ;  nor  did  he  desist  until  not 
a  thing  was  left.  The  cartman  shrank  from  his  savage  eye; 
for  of  all  the  men  he  had  ever  dealt  with,  Wilkins  was  the 
most  ungovernable.  He  obeyed  every  gesture,  and  did  not 
pause  until  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  done. 

'  There  —  now  go  ! '  said  Wilkins.  '  Take  them  away ; 
sell  them  for  whatever  they  '11  bring  —  no  matter  what ;  and 
take  the  money  where  I  told  you.' 

The  man  went  out  of  the  room,  mounted  his  cart,  and 
drove  off.  Wilkins  stood  at  the  window  watching  him  until 
he  turned  the  corner :  and  then  he  went  round  the  loom, 
examining  every  part  of  it,  to  see  if  any  thing  was  left  5  but 
the  harpies  of  the  law  could  not  have  swept  cleaner. 

*  Now  let  her  come  ! '  said  he,  exultingly.  'All 's  ready 
for  her.  Let  her  come,  I  say ;  and  she  '11  find  her  home 
what  she  wanted  to  make  mine.  She  would  run  away, 
would  she  !  Ha !  ha  !  ha ! '  And  he  paced  up  and  down 
the  apartment,  waving  his  hands  over  his  head  with  a  kind 
of  fiendish  glee,  and  laughing  until  the  room  rang. 

After  a  while,  he  leaned  carelessly  against  the  walls,  and 
said,  in  a  musing  tone  : 

'  I  've  done  my  work  well !  All  empty  !  all  empty  ! '  He 
kept  repeating  these  words  at  longer  and  longer  intervals, 
until  gradually,  and  almost  imperceptibly,  a  change  came 
over  his  countenance.  It  grew  less  stern,  but  more  gloomy, 
as  he  said : 

'  Well,  old  room,  good-bye !     It  '11  be  a  long  time 


8  THE    ATTORNEY. 

I  see  you  again.  I  feel  sad  at  leaving  you,  for  I  feel  like  a 
ship  without  an  anchor.  God  knows  where  I  'm  going  now  ! 
I  'm  cut  adrift,  and  am  floating  on  to  where  all  seems  black. 
Well,  you  are  not  what  you  used  to  be  when  she  was  here  — 
and  we  had  plenty  —  and  she  loved  me.  She  did  love  me, 
poor  Lucy  !  God  bless  her  !  And  I  —  I  loved  her  !  But 
she  went  off —  yes,  she  went  off!  —  she  went  off ! ' 

He  kept  repeating  these  words  to  himself,  and  gazing  va 
cantly  about  him,  and  at  last  sauntered  into  the  street  and 
went  off. 

How  little  a  space  there  is  between  sorrow  and  joy !  How 
much  of  our  fate  depends  on  the  turning  of  a  straw  !  Had 
Wilkins  remained  in  that  room  but  five  minutes  longer,  what 
a  change  might  have  taken  place  in  his  lot !  For  not  that 
time  had  elapsed,  when  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  so 
faint  and  trembling  that  it  seemed  scarcely  to  touch  it.  It 
came  again  and  again.  The  door  opened,  and  a  face,  pale 
and  thin,  but  exceedingly  beautiful,  looked  in,  and  gazed 
timidly  about  the  deserted  room.  Then  a  female  entered 
hesitatingly,  as  if  she  feared  a  rough  welcome ;  and  Lucy 
found  herself  once  more  in  what  had  been  her  home.  And 
this  was  the  end  of  all  her  dreams  !  Here  her  hopes  crum 
bled  to  dust.  She  had  nerved  herself  to  encounter  every 
thing  but  this ;  cold  looks,  hard  words,  even  ill  usage  ;  but 
not  this  desolation. 

The  room  appeared  to  have  grown  time-worn  and  ruined, 
even  in  a  day.  It  looked  as  if  years  had  passed  over  it  since 
she  was  there  last.  The  windows  were  dim  and  dust-covered, 
and  the  hearth  black  and  cold.  Now  that  their  common 
home  was  gone,  a  gulf  seemed  to  have  started  up  between 
her  and  her  husbaud  which  separated  them  for  ever.  All  that 
had  ever  passed  in  that  room  sprang  up  in  her  mind  as  viv 
idly  as  if  it  were  even  now  before  her.  It  was  one  of  those 


THE    ATTORNEY.  179 

•waking  dreams,  so  full  of  sadness,  in  which  the  voice  of  the 
past  comes  sighing  in  the  ear,  conjuring  up  phantoms  of 
scenes  and  things  long  forgotten,  and  touching  chords  in  the 
human  heart  which  seemed  unstrung  for  ever.  Things  which 
she  had  never  heeded  she  thought  of  now.  She  recollected 
the  position  of  each  article  in  the  room.  Here  had  stood 
the  table  —  there  the  old  broken  chair — there  an  old  chest. 
They  were  mere  pieces  of  furniture  ;  yet  they  were  part 
of  her  home  ;  and  it  made  her  very  sad  to  think  that  they 
were  gone.  She  recollected  the  many  happy  hours  which 
she  had  spent  in  that  room  ;  their  many  wants  too,  as  they 
became  poor ;  how  she  had  concealed  them  from  her  hus 
band  ;  how  he  had  scolded  her  for  it ;  and  at  the  same  time 
had  caught  her  to  his  bosom  and  called  her  his  dear  little 
wife.  How  cheerful  the  old  room  was  then  !  and  how  gay 
he  was !  and  how  merrily  he  used  to  laugh  at  its  incon 
veniences,  and  say  that  it  was  a  poor  place,  but  that  they 
would  have  a  better  one  some  day.  Could  this  cold,  dreary 
chamber,  with  its  broken  and  dismantled  walls,  be  that 
room  !  Could  the  man  who  had  struck  her  to  the  earth 
be  George  ! ' 

While  she  was  standing  there,  an  old  woman  hobbled 
down  stairs  with  a  pail  in  her  hand.  She  had  lived  for  a 
long  time  in  one  of  the  upper  rooms,  and  was  very  poor,  and 
bent  almost  double  with  age.  Lucy  called  her  by  name. 
She  stopped,  set  her  pail  down  on  the  floor,  and  leaned  on  a 
stick  which  she  carried  to  help  her  as  she  went. 

'Ah,  child  !  is  it  you  ? '  She  always  called  her  child,  for 
she  seemed  so  in  comparison  with  her.  '  It 's  a  long  day 
since  I  see  you.  And  so  you  're  going  away,  are  you  ? 
More 's  the  pity  ;  for  now  I  '11  have  no  one  to  sit  by  me  the 
long  nights  when  I  git  the  agy  ;  nor  to  give  me  my  doctor- 
stuff  ;  nor  to  speak  as  if  there  was  some  one  to  care  for  an 


180  THE    ATTORNEY. 

old  soul  like  me.  As  for  them]  said  she,  giving  an  indignant 
fling  of  the  elbow  in  the  direction  of  the  second  floor : 
*  they  'd  see  me  die  under  their  very  eyes,  and  would  n't 
stir  a  finger  to  help  it.  Out  on  them  !  I  say,'  and  she 
knocked  her  cane  violently  on  the  floor  ;  '  out  on  them  !  for 
a  selfish,  good-for-nothing,  thieving  pack  as  they  are  ! '  And 
again  the  stick  came  in  contact  with  the  floor,  in  a  succes 
sion  of  short  venomous  knocks. 

'And  so  you  've  moved  away  ? '  continued  she  in  the  same 
whining  tone  in  which  she  had  first  spoken  ;  '  and  where  are 
you  going  ? ' 

Lucy  shook  her  head,  and  said  she  did  n't  know  ;  she  said 
that  she  had  been  away  for  a  few  days,  and  was  not  aware 
that  her  husband  intended  to  leave  there ;  that  she  had  come 
back  and  found  every  thing  gone.  '  Perhaps  she  could  tell 
where  he  was.' 

4  No,  no  ! '  said  the  old  dame,  drawing  in  her  shrivelled 
lips,  and  shaking  her  head  so  long  that  she  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  it  was  customary  not  to  continue  the  motion  for 
ever :  *  no,  no !  he  never  speaks  to  the  likes  of  me.  He 
comes  in  and  he  goes  out  without  so  much  as  a  '  Good  day, 
Martha !  how 's  your  rheumatis,  or  your  cold,  or  your  corns  ? 
No,  no ;  none  of  the  little  attentions  as  are  so  gratifying  to  old 
ladies  like  me.  He  tell  me  !  He  comes  in ;  slam  goes  the 
door,  lock  goes  the  key  ;  and  then  he  walks,  and  walks,  and 
walks  all  night  long  ;  and  then,  when  morning  comes,  slam 
goes  the  door,  snap  goes  the  key,  and  off  he  goes  for  the  day. 
He  tell  me  !  He  was  here  half  an  hour  ago  a-loading  a  cart 
with  things;  and  I  went  in  and  out  a-purpose;  and  he  didn't 

say  a  word  but  once,  and  then  he  called  me  a  d d  old 

woman,  and  told  me  to  get  out  of  the  way,  or  he  'd  break 
my  neck.  He  doii\  I  'd  like  to  catch  him  at  it ! ' 

The  mere  idea  of  his  performing  a  feat  of  that  kind 


THE    ATTORNEY.  181 

caused  her  to  burst  into  a  strain  of  vituperation  which  easily 
accounted  for  the  little  attention  which  she  received  at  the 
hands  of  most  of  her  neighbors  ;  as  it  required  a  pretty 
stout  head  and  no  very  sensitive  ears  to  remain  in  her  neigh 
borhood  when  she  was  fairly  under  way. 

Lucy,  finding  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  from 
ifee  old  woman,  whose  key  was  becoming  more  and  more 
sbrill  every  instant,  went  to  several  of  the  neighbors ;  but 
th)y  could  tell  her  nothing  more  than  she  had  learned  al 
ready.  One  or  two  confirmed  the  old  woman's  story,  but 
knew  nothing  more.  The  room  had  been  shut  up  for  some 
time,  and  Wilkins  had  not  been  there  in  the  day-time.  One 
man  had  observed  him  one  cold  morning  some  time  since, 
standing  on  tip-toe  at  his  window  and  looking  in.  He  re 
mained  but  a  short  time,  and  had  not  been  seen  by  him 
since. 

There  was  nothing  left  now  but  to  seek  him  among  his 
comrades.  His  wife's  cheeks  burned  with  shame  as  she 
thought  of  the  low  haunts  which  he  had  of  late  frequented  ; 
and  for  a  short  time  that  feeling,  mingled  with  fear,  was 
so  strong  that  it  almost  made  her  shrink  from  her  purpose. 
But  she  thought  of  what  he  had  once  been  to  her,  and  all 
her  old  affection  gushed  up  at  the  idea  of  the  fate  which 
would  be  his  if  she  failed  to  see  and  warn  him. 

Drawing  her  bonnet  so  as  to  hide  her  face,  and  disguising 
herself  as  well  as  she  could,  (for  she  well  knew  that  there 
were  many  places  in  this  dark  labyrinth  of  souls  called  '  the 
city,'  where  her  beauty  would  bring  any  thing  but  protec 
tion,)  and  with  a  shrinking  yet  hopeful  heart  she  set  out. 

Hour  after  hour  fled  by  as  she  searched.  At  some  places 
she  received  information  which  urged  her  on  with  renewed 
hope ;  at  others  she  was  mistaken  for  one  of  those  females 
whom  God  has  made  and  man  has  blighted  ;  and  only  sub- 


182  THE    ATTORNEY. 

jected  herself  to  the  ribald  taunts  and  sneers  which  are  so 
liberally  showered  upon  the  wretched  and  broken-hearted. 
Through  places  which  might  make  a  bold  spirit  quail,  that 
poor  girl  bent  her  steps  ;  for  as  her  husband's  means  had 
decreased,  he  had  become  desperate,  and  associated  with 
those  even  more  reckless  than  himself ;  men  whom  suffering 
had  driven  to  crime,  and  crime  to  despair. 

It  was  late  in  the  day,  and  hope  was  nearly  dead.  She 
was  walking  wearily  toward  a  house  in  a  dark,  narrow  street 
which  she  had  never  heard  of  before.  She  had  inquired 
its  direction  of  several  persons,  who  looked  strangely  at  her 
when  she  did  so,  but  gave  her  the  information  which  she 
required.  It  was  the  last  place  to  which  she  had  been  di 
rected,  and  in  spite  of  all  her  misgiving,  thither  she  went. 

It  was  a  tall  old  building,  which  seemed  going  to  pieces 
from  age.  The  bricks  had  toppled  down  from  the  chimneys ; 
the  floors  had  sagged  ;  the  mortar  had  been  beaten  by  the 
weather  from  between  the  bricks  ;  and  the  stone-work  of  the 
doors  and  windows  was  cracked  by  time  and  exposure.  The 
windows  were  old  and  broken,  and  patched  and  stuffed  in 
many  places.  Altogether  it  was  a  wreck,  and  stood  in  a 
neighborhood  rank  with  vice  and  suffering.  Opening  from 
the  street  was  a  door  with  its  lintel  so  cracked  and  crum 
bling  that  it  threatened  to  fall  on  the  heads  of  all  who  entered, 
and  rendering  it  a  matter  of  no  small  labor  to  open  or  shut  it. 

At  this  door  Lucy  knocked.  All  was  silent,  although  but 
a  moment  before  she  had  heard  the  sound  of  voices,  as  if  a 
large  number  of  people  were  within. 

She  knocked  again,  and  was  more  successful ;  for  two 
voices,  apparently  engaged  in  consultation  as  to  the  propriety 
of  admitting  her,  reached  her  ear.  Then  by  dint  of  several 
violent  jerks  the  door  was  opened,  and  a  man  looked  out 
After  surveying  her  from  head  to  foot,  he  told  her  to  wall 
in.  Lucy  obeyed,  stepping  just  inside  the  door. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  183 

It  was  a  small  room,  and  about  as  old  and  rumous  as  the 
rest  of  the  building.  In  the  centre  of  it  was  a  wooden  table 
with  two  bottles  on  it,  several  dirty  tumblers,  a  large  piece 
of  cheese,  and  part  of  a  loaf  of  bread.  Although  she  had 
heard  the  sound  of  many  voices  before  she- knocked,  there 
was  but  one  other  man  in  the  room ;  and  he  was  sitting  by 
the  fire  with  his  hands  thrust  in  the  pockets  of  his  great 
coat,  smoking  an  unusually  long  and  black  cigar.  He  had 
a  fur  cap  drawn  over  his  eyes,  and  was  contemplating  a 
small  stump  of  wood  with  intense  abstraction. 

The  person  who  admitted  her  was  short  and  square-built, 
with  a  wolfish  eye,  and  a  large  swelling  throat,  which  looked 
as  if  it  hankered  for  a  halter.  When  he  had  ushered  her 
in,  and  after  contemplating  her  with  evident  admiration,  he 
said,  with  a  slight  distortion  of  the  face,  intended  to  be  in 
sinuating  : 

'  Well,  sweet-heart,  which  of  us  do  you  want  ? ' 

Lucy  shrunk  from  his  bold  glance,  and  hurriedly  told  him 
that  she  was  looking  for  Mr.  Wilkins,  and  had  been  directed 
there  to  find  him. 

1  Oh,  it 's  him  you  want,  then  ? '  said  he,  with  a  leer.  '  He 
does  come  here  sometimes,  but  he  is  n't  here  now.'  Turning 
to  the  man  at  the  fire  :  *  I  say,  Bill,'  said  he,  thrusting  his 
t  Jngue  in  his  cheek,  and  jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder, 
'  she  wants  Wilkins.' 

'  She  does,  does  she  ? '  replied  the  other,  removing  his  cigar 
3rom  his  mouth,  and  gently  tipping  the  ashes  from  its  end 
with  the  point  of  his  little  finger,  as  he  spat  upon  the  floor : 
'  there 's  a  good  many  that  does,  'specially  the  State-prison. 
Who  is  she?' 

4  Some  gal  or  other  —  /do  n't  know  her,'  replied  the  other, 
looking  over  his  shoulder,  and  again  scrutinizing  the  girl 
from  head  to  foot.  *  Not  so  bad,  nuther.' 


184  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'It's  a  blasted  shame  in  George  to  cut  and  run,  and  leave 
her  !  It  is  n't  honorable,  it  is  n't ! '  said  the  man  with  the 
cigar,  raising  one  foot  after  the  other  to  a  shelf  considerably 
higher  than  his  head :  after  which  he  put  his  cigar  in  his 
mouth  and  smoked  for  some  moments  with  great  violence. 
There  was  something  in  his  appearance  and  even  in  his  crude 
notions  of  honor  which  caused  Lucy  to  draw  toward  him, 
as  if  for  protection  from  his  sinister-looking  companion. 

'  How  long  have  you  known  Wilkins  ? '  inquired  he, 
speaking  through  his  teeth,  which  were  tightly  closed  to 
prevent  the  cigar  from  falling  out ;  and  with  his  face  screwed 
into  a  complication  of  wrinkles  to  enable  him  to  see  through 
the  smoke  which  eddied  about  it.  '  Young  women  do  n't 
know  exactly,  of  course  ;  but  how  long  —  about ? ' 

'A  long  time,'  replied  she  timidly :  'I'm  his  wife.' 

'  His  wife  ! '  exclaimed  the  man,  dropping  his  feet  to  the 
floor,  jerking  his  cigar  from  his  mouth,  blowing  out  a  furious 
cloud  of  smoke,  and  starting  up.  *  Married  to  him  by  a 
parson  ?  —  all  sound,  tight  and  reg'lar  ? ' 

Lucy  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

*  Then  what  the  devil  brings  you  here  ?  Tell  me  that ! 
Get  out  of  this  place  as  fast  as  you  can  !  Come  along.' 

As  he  spoke,  he  flung  his  cigar  in  the  fire,  buttoned  his 
coat  to  the  chin,  and  taking  her  by  the  arm,  led  her  into  the 
street. 

'Are  you  taking  me  where  I  '11  find  my  husband  ? ' 

'  No  ! '  replied  the  man  bluntly ;  'I'm  taking  you  out  of 
this  neighborhood.  This  is  no  place  for  you.' 

Without  waiting  for  her  reply,  he  placed  her  arm  in  his, 
and  led  her  on  until  they  came  to  a  broad  thoroughfare. 
Here  he  stopped. 

'  Now,  my  good  woman,  take  a  friend's  advice.  When  a 
man  has  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  the  Devil,  let  him ;  for 


TEE    ATTORNEY.  185 

go  lie  will,  in  spite  of  you.  Your  husband  has  done  that, 
and  you'd  better  not  cross  him.  Above  all,  do  n't  look  for 
him  in  such  holes  as  that  you  've  just  left ;  and  as  you  value 
your  life,  do  n't  mention  that  you  Ve  been  there.  All  I  can 
tell  about  Wilkins  is,  that  he  has  n't  been  at  any  of  his  old 
places  for  a  week  or  more.  If  I  was  you,  I  'd  go  to  the  police 
and  inquire.  Perhaps  he  's  cleaned  a  house  ;  stopped  an  old 
gentleman  ;  robbed  a  mail,  or  something  of  that  kind  ;  and 
while  you  are  wearing  your  little  soul  out,  he  's  stowed  away 
snug  and  comfortable  at  the  expense  of  the  State,  with  a 
man  to  wait  on  him  and  shut  the  door  arter  him  to  keep  the 
cold  out.' 

Having  thus  delivered  his  opinion,  he  perpetrated  an  in 
describable  contortion  intended  for  a  bow,  and  diving  round 
a  corner,  instantly  disappeared. 

Although  his  parting  advice  was  that  of  one  well  ac 
quainted  with  the  world,  or  at  all  events  with  that  portion 
of  it  with  which  he  mingled,  it  had  little  weight  with  Lucy. 
For  all  that  she  remembered  or  thought  of  was,  that  Wilkins 
was  gone  ;  that  all  trace  of  him  was  lost,  and  all  hope  with  it. 

The  sun  had  been  glowing  brightly  when  she  set  out  in 
the  morning.  It  had  gradually  ascended  the  sky,  and  jour 
neyed  to  the  west.  The  shadows  of  the  buildings  which 
had  been  thrown  in  sharp  outline  in  the  street  had  crept  up 
the  opposite  houses ;  then  the  walls  became  dark,  and  the 
sun  shone  only  on  the  tall  chimney-tops.  As  it  grew  late, 
the  streets  became  dim  and  gray ;  some  of  the  narrow  ones 
were  dark  already ;  and  the  last  thing  that  reflected  the  sun 
beams  was  a  distant  spire,  whose  golden  ball  gleamed  in  the 
sky  like  a  globe  of  fire.  At  last,  that  too  became  less  and 
less  bright,  and  then  black ;  and  night  set  in. 

Lucy's  strength  failed  as  her  hopes  faded,  and  with  a  weary 
step  she  sought  her  new  home. 


186  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

MAN  does  not  become  a  fiend  at  once.  He  does  not 
burst  into  the  world  with  a  panoply  of  crime  about  him ; 
with  a  heart  of  stone;  a  conscience  seared,  feelings  dead,  and 
affections  withered  at  the  root.  These  are  the  work  of 
years  ;  the  result  of  long  and  bitter  struggle.  Every  noble 
feeling,  every  warm  impulse  ;  all  that  is  great  and  good  and 
glorious  in  the  human  soul  battles  to  the  last,  before  it  yields 
its  purity  ;  and  when  they  are  crushed,  and  sunk,  never  again 
to  rise,  he  bears  marks  and  brands,  stamped  upon  heart  and 
feature,  never  to  leave  them  while  life'  lasts.  His  triumph 
and  curse  go  hand  in  hand  ;  for  when  the  heart  loses  its 
freshness,  every  hope  grows  dim,  and  has  a  shadowy  fear 
hanging  like  a  pall  over  it. 

The  attorney  had  passed  the  fiery  ordeal,  and  came  out 
of  it  callous  to  crime,  but  with  a  heart  teeming  with  its  own 
vague  fears.  Tormented  by  a  thousand  suspicions  and  fore 
bodings  of  ill,  he  was  in  little  mood  for  the  business  he  had 
to  perform.  He  never  approached  that  girl,  or  even  thought 
of  her,  without  a  creeping,  cowering  sensation  of  guilt 
and  shame.  He  had  experienced  the  same  feeling  in  other 
instances ;  but  it  was  rare,  and  never  stepped  between  him 
and  his  victim.  With  his  eye  fixed  on  his  object,  diverg 
ing  neither  to  the  right  nor  left,  he  pursued  his  course. 
This  was  the  strong  feature  of  his  character.  Obstacles 
never  daunted  him.  Distrust,  suspicion,  and  disgrace  thick 
ened  about  him,  but  never  turned  him  from  his  path. 
There  were  times  indeed  when  rumors  of  himself  came  to  his 


THE    ATTORNEY.  187 


ears  that  made  his  heart  fail  and  his  eyes  grow  dim  ;  when 
he  sank  his  head  in  his  hands,  and  thought  of  the  past,  and 
looking  back  to  early  days,  longed  to  be  a  boy  again.  Yet 
none  knew  it  but  himself ;  and  to  the  world  he  was  always 
the  same. 

He  had  reached  a  stage  of  his  game  where  it  became 
complicated.  Each  move  involved  so  many  consequences, 
connected  with  what  had  already  been  done,  and  with  what 
was  yet  to  be  done,  that  it  required  a  degree  of  cold,  quiet 
calculation,  which  at  that  particular  time  he  felt  little  able 
to  give  it.  He  saw  at  a  glance  the  full  advantage  of  Higgs's 
suggestion  ;  but  it  came  so  suddenly,  and  required  such 
immediate  action,  that  he  had  not  time  to  ponder,  and 
scheme,  and  brood  over  it,  as  was  his  habit ;  and  in  no  easy 
frame  of  mind  he  set  out  for  Miss  Crawford's  house. 

Just  at  the  gray,  dusky  hour,  when  Lucy  turned  with 
weary  steps  and  drooping  spirits  to  seek  her  home,  the  attor 
ney  skulked  out  of  his  den.  He  walked  slowly  along  the 
street,  with  his  head  bent  down  on  his  chest ;  his  hand 
thrust  in  the  breast  of  his  coat,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground.  If  he  occasionally  raised  his  head,  and  gazed  up  at 
the  pale  stars,  which  were  beginning  to  flicker  in  the  twi 
light,  or  at  the  gray  moon  as  it  floated  through  the  sky,  it 
was  not  of  them  that  he  thought.  Sometimes  he  paused, 
and  stood  perfectly  still,  as  if  he  had  forgotten  whither  he 
was  going ;  and  then  hurried  rapidly  on  for  a  short  distance, 
and  again  fell  into  his  old  pace.  He  kept  on,  in  lonely  by 
streets,  where  he  thought  i  hat  there  would  be  few  to  inter 
rupt  him,  or  to  read  his  gathered  brow  and  anxious  eye. 

For  a  long  time  none  heeded  him ;  for  every  man  had  his 
own  little  world  in  his  thoughts ;  and  if  a  straggler  glanced 
at  him  as  he  went  by,  he  might  have  dwelt  for  a  moment  on 
the  care-worn  face  on  which  his  eye  had  just  rested,  and  then 
forgot  it. 


188  THE    ATTORNEY. 

At  last  a  crippled  beggar  stopped  him,  and  whined  forth 
a  supplication  for  charity.  The  attorney  thrust  his  hand  in 
his  pocket,  and  gave  him  a  small  coin,  scarcely  conscious  of 
what  he  did. 

'  Ha  !  that 's  something,'  muttered  the  beggar  ;  '  some 
thing  's  better  than  nothing  —  nothing  is  better  than  starv 
ing.' 

Startled  at  this  strange  exclamation,  Bolton  turned  to  look 
at  the  man  more  narrowly ;  and  as  he  did  so,  the  light  of  a 
street-lamp  fell  strongly  on  his  face. 

'  Ha !  ha  ! '  shouted  the  man,  looking  in  the  wan  face  of 
the  attorney.  '  That 's  better  than  all !  The  lawyer  dis 
gorges  —  the  lawyer  Bolton.' 

'  Who  are  you,  in  the  name  of  Heaven  ! '  demanded  Bol 
ton,  drawing  back  from  his  startling  companion. 

'  Who  am  I  ? '  repeated  the  beggar ;  '  who  am  I  ?  And  you 
to  ask  that !  I  am  Tom,  the  beggar :  I  was  Mr.  Thomas 
Nikols  once ;  that  was  before  I  knew  you.  Now  I  'm  only 
the  beggar.  Shall  I  tell  you  how  Thomas  Nikols  became 
what  you  see  him  ?  Shall  I  ? '  shouted  he,  thrusting  his 
face  almost  against  that  of  the  lawyer,  and  laughing  with  a 
kind  of  devilish  glee. 

1  No,  no  ;  not  now  ! '  exclaimed  the  attorney,  with  some 
thing  like  a  shudder,  and  he  hurried  off.  Long  after  he  was 
out  of  sight,  the  cripple  stood  looking  after  him,  and  making 
the  still  street  ring  with  his  loud,  mocking  laugh. 

'  They  all  haunt  me  now ! '  said  Bolton,  drawing  in  his 
breath  with  a  gasp  as  he  paused  to  rest.  '  More  than 
ever  before.  They  crowd  round  me ;  and  to-day,  from 
morning  till  night,  they  've  been  about  me.  Let  them  come  ! 
They  '11  not  scare  me  from  my  prey.  Do  I  not  know  that 
they  are  dreams  —  dreams  ?  How  my  heart  beats  ! '  He 
placed  his  hand  on  his  heart,  and  felt  its  quick,  irregular 


THE    ATTORNEY.  189 

throbbing  ;  and  for  an  instant,  a  sickening  sensation  of  fear 
came  over  him  ;  and  the  idea  shot  athwart  his  mind,  that  its 
pulsations  were  unnaturally  strong ;  some  vital  chord  might 
snap,  and  he  fall  dead  on  the  spot.  For  that  single  instant, 
his  terror  amounted  to  agony ;  but  that  subsided,  and  he 
went  on  ;  although,  until  he  reached  his  place  of  desti 
nation,  this  was  the  uppermost  thought  in  his  mind. 

When  he  reached  the  house,  he  stood  and  contemplated 
it,  as  it  rose  a  huge,  black  mass  against  the  sky,  without  form 
or  outline,  looking  as  if  in  that  spot  the  very  darkness  had 
been  embodied  and  concentrated.  There  was  no  light  burn 
ing.  The  windows  were  closed.  Every  thing  about  it 
looked  so  silent  and  church-like,  and  Death  had  been  at 
work  there  so  recently,  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  grim  phan 
tom  still  lingered  in  the  precincts.  The  attorney  held  his 
breath,  in  hopes  of  hearing  some  one  approaching ;  but  the 
barking  of  a  dog  far  off,  and  the  rumbling  of  vehicles  in  the 
>  distant  streets,  were  all  that  broke  the  silence. 

Feelings  hitherto  unknown  began  to  creep  through  his 
mind ;  and  a  thrilling  presentiment  of  coming  evil  hung 
round  him  like  a  shadow.  Suddenly,  uttering  a  curse  at  his 
own  folly,  he  sprang  up  the  steps  and  rang  the  bell  until  the 
house  echoed.  This  broke  the  spell,  and  he  was  again  the 
cold,  crafty  man  that  he  had  always  been. 

He  inquired  of  the  servant  if  Miss  Crawford  were  at  home, 
and  on  being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  without  waiting  to 
be  announced,  he  walked  directly  to  the  room  and  entered. 
All  trace  of  indecision  had  disappeared.  He  was  perfectly 
collected  ;  his  cheek  was  a  little  pale,  but  his  eye  was  bright 
and  clear,  and  his  manner  confident  and  unconstrained  ;  and 
he  prepared  to  play  his  game  with  his  usual  coolness. 

Miss  Crawford  was  sitting  at  a  table,  with  her  face  half 
turned  from  him,  so  that  she  did  not  observe  him  as  he 


190  THE    ATTORNEY. 

entered.  She  was  very  pale ;  and  there  were  traces  of  tears 
on  her  cheek.  A  book  was  lying  on  the  table  with  a  glove 
in  it,  as  if  she  had  been  reading,  but  her  eyes  were  then 
fixed  on  the  floor.  Bolton  gazed  at  her  without  speaking. 

'  I  can  see  the  old  man  in  her  eye,'  thought  he ;  *  but  she 's 
worse ;  she 's  suspicious.  He  was  not.  However,  fine 
words  go  far  with  most  of  them.  Will  they  with  her  ?  We  '11 
see.  I  '11  trim  to  the  breeze.  I ']]  make  the  offer ;  but  she 
must  at  the  same  time  see  that  t'here  is  no  choice,  except  to 
marry  or  starve.' 

His  train  of  thought  was  interrupted  by  the  girl  herself, 
who  happening  to  look  up,  caught  sight  of  him,  and  instantly 
rose,  her  eyes  flashing  and  her  cheeks  reddening  at  the 
recollection  of  his  last  visit. 

*  May  I  ask  to  what  I  am  indebted  for  this  visit  \ '  For 
an  instant,  Bolton  quailed  before  the  keen,  scornful  eye  of 
that  single  girl,  who  stood  before  him  strong  only  in  the 
consciousness  of  her  wTongs  ;  but  it  was  only  for  an  instant ; 
and  he  answered  calmly  : 

'  I  came  here  to  see  Miss  Crawford  on  matters  of  much 
interest,  both  to  her  and  to  myself.' 

Seeing  that  he  paused,  as  if  he  expected  an  answer,  the 
girl  said  coldly :  '  State  your  business  briefly.  From  what  I 
know,  and  have  heard  of  you,  I  care  not  how  soon  our  inter 
view  ends.' 

'  If  I  were  not  traduced,'  said  the  lawyer,  speaking  gravely, 
and  weighing  every  word  before  he  uttered  it,  '  I  should  be 
more  fortunate  than  hundreds  who  are  better  than  myself. 
I  am  fully  aware  that  many  foul  slanders  are  in  circulation 
respecting  me  ;  and  I  now  feel  them  the  more  deeply,  that 
they  have  reached  your  ears,  and  that  you  believe  them.' 

Miss  Crawford  made  no  reply ;  although  he  evidently 
paused  for  that  purpose. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  191 

4  May  I  not  at  least  be  allowed  the  opportunity  of  clearing 
ray  character,  by  learning  what  has  been  said  against  it  ? 
said  he  earnestly. 

'I  make  no  charges,  and  wish  to  hear  no  justification, 
replied  the  girl  firmly.  '  Let  me  know  the  nature  of  your 
business  at  once,  or  I  shall  retire  without  it.' 

From  this  abrupt  answer  there  was  no  appeal ;  and  Bol- 
ton  said,  in  the  same  calm  manner  which  he  had  hitherto 
adopted :  '  Since  you  wish  it,  I  '11  waive  all  further  allusion 
to  these  idle  tales,  which  a  breath  might  scatter,  and  come 
at  once  to  the  object  of  my  visit,  which  refers  principally  to 
yourself,  as  connected  with  your  father's  Will.' 

Miss  Crawford  became  exceedingly  pale,  and  her  fingers 
convulsively  grasped  the  top  of  a  chair. 

'  You  need  say  no  more,'  said  she  :  '  I  understand  all  the 
rest.  You  would  tell  me  that  this  house  is  yours ;  that  I 
am  an  intruder  on  your  bounty ;  that  the  possessions  of 
which  you  have  defrauded  me  are  no  longer  mine  ;  that  my 
father's  house,  in  which  I  have  lived  from  infancy,  is  no 
longer  a  home  for  me ;  that  I  must  go  from  it,  what  you 
have  made  me  —  a  beggar.  You  see,  Mr.  Bolton,  the 
thoughts  of  some  people  are  written  in  their  faces,  and  can 
be  read.' 

Bolton  bit  his  lip ;  and  his  cheek  flushed  slightly ;  but 
there  was  nothing  else  to  indicate  emotion  on  his  part,  as  he 
said  :  '  I  am  deeply  grieved  that  you  interpret  my  thoughts 
so  harshly.  When  you  hear  the  offer  which  I  have  come 
to  make,  whether  it  be  agreeable  or  not,  you  will  at  least 
acquit  me  of  selfishness  ;  and  if  you  accept  it,  it  will  settle 
this  whole  matter  much  to  my  satisfaction,  and  I  shall  be 
only  too  happy,  if  it  is  to  yours.' 

'And  the  offer  is  —  what  ? '  inquired  she,  without  the 
slightest  abatement  of  the  coldness  of  her  manner. 


192  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'That  you  should  share  the  fortune  with  me,'  replied 
Bolton. 

'  I  thought  so.  If  I  will  give  you  a  portion  of  my  fortune, 
you  will  leave  me  the  rest.' 

Bolton  bit  his  lip. 

*  I  am  particularly  unfortunate  in  not  being  understood,' 
said  he. 

'  Was  not  such  your  meaning,  Sir  ? '  said  Miss  Crawford, 
keeping  her  eye  fastened  on  his,  and  watching  every  sign  of 
equivocation  or  guilt ;  '  your  language  was  plain  enough.' 

Distrust  and  anger  were  written  in  every  feature  as  she 
spoke.  Bolton  saw  that  she  had  prejudices  which  he  had  no 
time  to  overcome  ;  and  he  felt  that  he  was  watched  by  one 
whose  intellect  was  naturally  keen,  and  whose  faculties  were 
sharpened  by  fear  and  suspicion.  So  he  determined  to  appeal 
at  once  to  her  interests. 

'  Such  w.as  not  my  meaning,'  said  he,  in  a  decided  tone. 
'And  it  is  time  that  we  came  to  a  full  and  clear  understand 
ing  of  it,  without  further  waste  of  words.  When  I  offered  to 
give  you  a  portion  of  your  father's  property,  it  was  by  mak 
ing  you  my  wife.  On  these  terms,  and  on  these  alone,  the 
wealth  which  your  father  has  made  mine  will  become  yours, 
and  at  your  disposal.' 

1  Now,  at  least,  I  understand  you,  Sir,'  said  she,  drawing 
herself  up  ;  while  every  feature  of  her  beautiful  face  glowed 
with  anger  and  contempt :  '  you  would  buy  my  silence ;  for 
the  sake  of  my  fortune,  you  would  take  the  encumbrance  of 
its  lawful  owner.  You  would  be  magnanimous,  and  make 
the  beggar  your  wife  !  No,  Sir  ! '  said  she,  speaking  with  an 
earnestness  that  astonished  him ;  '  not  until  every  appeal  that 
the  law  allows  has  been  made,  will  I  yield  possession  of  a 
single  thing.  From  court  to  court  I  will  contest  that  Will 
as  a  forgery  ;  and  until  expelled  from  hence,  I  will  maintain 


THE    ATTORNEY.  193 

my  hold.  Should  I  fail,  I  would  starve  in  the  streets  before 
iny  name  should  be  changed  for  yours.  Begone,  Sir  !  Until 
the  law  gives  you  this  house,  you  have  no  business  here.' 

*  Resist  if  you  will,'  said  the  attorney,  still  retaining  full 
command  of  his  temper ;  '  but  you  will  repent  it.  You  will 
expose  to  the  world  the  stain  upon  your  family,  which  other 
wise  would  be  known  to  but  few.  You  will  tarnish  the  fame 
of  her  who  gave  you  birth,  and  will  cast  a  shade  upon  the 
memory  of  the  gray-headed  old  man  who  has  just  gone  to 
his  grave.' 

'  'T  is  false  ! '  exclaimed  the  girl,  now  fairly  aroused ;  "t  is 
you  who  disgrace  them,  yourself,  and  human  nature.  I  will 
make  this  matter  public.  The  truth  shall  come  out  at  last, 
and  prove  them  unsullied ;  and  brand  you  for  the  black 
hearted  man  that  the  world  now  suspects  you  to  be.  You 
cannot  frighten  me  from  my  purpose.  If  I  fail,  I  shall  only 
have  done  my  duty ;  if  I  succeed,  I  will  have  justice  mea 
sured  out,  of  which  you  shall  have  a  full  share.' 

'  You  speak  confidently ;  but  you  don't  know  what  law  is,' 
said  Bolton,  coldly. 

4 1  know  what  it  is  meant  to  be.  It  is  intended  to  shield 
the  weak  from  the  strong  ;  the  injured  from  the  oppressor  ; 
to  right  the  wronged;  to  keep  down  injustice  and  crime. 
That 's  what  it 's  meant  for ;  but  there  are  those  who  disgrace 
it  as  much  as  they  disgrace  the  image  of  the  great  God 
which  they  bear.' 

The  attorney  had  remained  calm  until  now ;  but  now  he 
fairly  shook  with  passion,  as  he  answered  in  a  quick,  stifled 
voice, 

'  It  is  my  turn  now.     I  have  made  a  fair  and  honorable 

proposal  to  you.     I  have  offered  to  share  the  fortune  which 

your  father  gave  me  with  one  whom  I  know  he  loved ;  not 

from  fear  of  what  you  or  the  law  could  do  ;  not  from  love 

9 


194  THE    ATTORNEY. 

of  you,  but  from  gratitude  to  him.  I  am  frank,  you  see. 
You  have  scouted  my  offer ;  insulted  me,  and  claimed  the 
law  of  the  land.  That  law  you  shall  have,  to  your  cost 
Drag  this  matter  from  court  to  court,  and  from  court  to  court 
I  '11  follow  it ;  and  when  it  is  decided,  what  the  law  allowr 
you  you  shall  have  ;  but  not  one  tittle  more  ;  not  the  tenth 
part  of  a  cent,  if  you  were  begging  your  bread ;  riot  one 
crust  to  keep  the  soul  in  your  body !  Now  you  understand 
me!' 

*  It  would  be  devilish  strange  if  she  did  n't,'  said  a  stern 
voice  behind  him.     At  the  same  time  a  heavy  hand  was 
placed  on  his  shoulder.   '  So  the  Devil  has  dropped  his  mask  ? ' 
Bolton  turned  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  young 
man  of  four  or  five-and- twenty,  whose  manner  plainly  showed 
that  he  had  overheard  at  least  a  part  of  the  conversation. 
Before  the  attorney  had  time  to  collect  his  thoughts,  the 
other  said : 

'Are  you  going  out  of  the  house  ?  or  will  you  wait  until 
you  are  thrust  out  like  a  dog  ? ' 

*  By  what  right  ? '  demanded  the  lawyer. 

*  No  matter,'  interrupted  the  stranger.     '  You  are  not  the 
person  to  question  that.' 

Bolton  measured  him  with  his  eye.  He  was  slight,  but 
tall  and  muscular,  and  might  prove  an  unpleasant  antagonist. 
The  lawyer  was  no  coward  where  his  life  was  not  immediately 
concerned ;  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  a  scuffle  ; 
and  that  was  a  thing  which  he  never  at  any  time  lost  sight 
of.  So  he  said  : 

'  I  did  not  come  here  to  raise  a  riot  over  the  grave  of  my 
friend,  or  to  break  in  upon  the  grief  of  his  daughter  by  out 
rages  or  violence.' 

*  Your  last  words  to  Miss  Crawford  were  certainly  express 
ive  of  very  great  consideration  for  the  daughter,'  said  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  195 

stranger,  with  a  slight  sneer.  '  I  have  told  you  to  quit  this 
house ;  and  now  you  must,  without  further  parley.'  As  he 
spoke,  he  led  him  to  the  door,  but  using  no  violence.  He 
opened  it,  and  pointed  to  the  entry. 

The  lawyer's  face  was  perfectly  livid,  as  he  turned  and 
fixed  his  eye  on  him ;  and  shaking  his  thin  finger,  uttered 
the  words : 

''I'll  remember  you? 

'  I  do  n't  doubt  it,'  replied  the  young  man ;  and  he  slam 
med  the  door  in  his  face. 

Bolton  strode  through  the  entry,  banged  the  street:door 
after  him,  and  sprang  down  the  steps  into  the  street. 

Nearly  the  whole  time  that  he  had  been  in  the  house,  his 
confederates,  Higgs  and  Wilkins,  had  been  loitering  about  it. 
No  sooner  was  he  come  out  than  they  joined  him. 

Mr.  Higgs  was  considerably  elated ;  possibly  by  the  fine 
ness  of  the  night,  although  it  is  not  unlikely  that  several 
visits  which  he  had  paid  to  a  small  tavern,  three  streets  off, 
might  have  had  something  to  do  with  the  state  of  his  spirits. 
Wilkins,  on  the  other  hand,  was  sullen  and  savage.  When 
he  joined  the  attorney  he  did  not  utter  a  syllable ;  but 
stalked  silently  at  his  side,  noticing  him  no  more  than  if  he 
had  been  a  mile  off. 

'  Well,  old  boy,'  said  Mr.  Higgs,  speaking  a  little  slowly, 
and  somewhat  thickly  :  '  when  is  it  to  be  ? ' 

*  Never ! '  answered  the  attorney,  abruptly. 

Mr.  Higgs  stared  at  him  in  a  manner  which  was  decidedly 
impressive. 

'  I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Bolton,'  said  he  ;  '  but  did  you  make 
use  of  the  word  never  ?  ' 

1 1  did.' 

*  Speak  out,  man,  will  you  ? '  said  Wilkins,  in  &  ha,rsh 


196  THE    ATTORNEY. 

voice :  '  what  have  you  done  ?     We  must  know  some  day, 
so  tell  us  at  once  ;  what  luck  ? ' 

*  D  —  n  her  !  none !     This  blasted  Will  must  be  proved. 
She  rejected  me ;  scouted  me ;  all  but  cursed  me.     I  bore 

it  as  long  as  I  could,  then  I  threatened  ;  and,  by ,  she 

defied  me ;  and  vowed  she  would  not  quit  the  house  till 
forced  by  law.' 

'A  young  woman  of  mettle,'  ejaculated  Mr.  Higgs. 

The  attorney  did  not  notice  him,  but  went  on.  '  She  has 
a  fellow  leagued  with  her  ;  a  young  slip  as  fierce  and  proud 
as  herself.  He  looked  as  if  he  only  wanted  an  excuse  to 
take  me  by  the  throat.' 

*  Did  you  place  your  hand  emphatically  on  your  heart, 
so  ? '  asked  Mr.  Higgs,  steadying  himself  in  front  of  the  ex 
cited  lawyer,  and,  after  several  attempts,  laying  his  hand  on 
the  spot  designated,  '  and  try  to  come  the  insinuating  over 
her  ?    It's  wonderful  how  they  swallow  that  —  them  women.' 

4  Then  there  's  trouble  in  the  wind,'  said  Wilkins,  bluntly. 

1  She  '11  fight  to  the  last.  There  's  this  boy,  too ;  a  lover, 
I  suppose.  Let  him  look  to  himself !  He  has  crossed  me  ; 
and  few  do  that  without  repenting  it.' 

'  That 's  true  ! '  muttered  Wilkins  ;  '  but,'  continued  he, 
in  so  low  a  tone  that  the  lawyer  could  not  understand  him, 
*  there  's  a  day  of  reckoning,  when  our  score  will  be  settled.' 

He  said  nothing  more,  but  dropped  behind  his  companions, 
for  he  had  observed  a  dark  figure  following  them,  keeping 
in  the  obscure  parts  of  the  street,  but  always  having  them 
in  full  view.  He  stopped  to  watch  it  until  his  companions 
were  at  some  distance,  when  the  person  suddenly  darted  for 
ward.  It  was  a  female,  with  her  face  so  closely  muffled  that 
he  could  not  see  it ;  but  a  hand  touched  his  arm,  and  a  voice 
that  thrilled  through  his  heart  said : 


THE    ATTORNEY.  197 

4  George,  can  I  speak  one  word  with  you  ? ' 

Wilkins  gasped  for  breath,  and  staggered  against  a  wall,  as 

powerless  as  a  child.     lie  could  not  speak. 

'  George,  dear  George,  for  God's  sake  let  me  have  a  few 

words  with  you  ! '  said  the  same  low,  supplicating  voice.    She 

took  his  hand,  which  shook  violently,  in  both  of  hers.     '  You 

will,  George,  will  you  not  ? ' 

*  Halloa  !   what  are  you  about  ?      Come  on,  will  you  ? 
"We  're  waiting  for  you,'  shouted  Higgs. 

'  Do  n't  go  !  do  n't  go,  George  ! '  exclaimed  the  girl,  ear 
nestly  ;  '  do  hear  me  —  do,  before  it 's  too  late  ! ' 

The  man  hesitated  ;  but  at  that  moment  both  Higgs  and 
Bolton  turned  back  and  began  to  approach  him.  He  drew 
himself  up,  unclasped  the  fingers  which  were  twined  round 
his  own,  and  flung  the  hand  from  him : 

'  Begone  ! '  exclaimed  he. 

*  No,  George,  I  will  not.     Hear  me  but  this  once  ;  give 
me  but  five  minutes,  and  I  will  never  trouble  you  again.' 

Wilkins  bent  his  mouth  to  her  ear,  and  said  in  a  hoarse 
whisper : 

'  You  know  how  we  parted  last.  If  you  follow  me,  we  '11 
part  so  again.' 

The  girl  shrank  from  him,  and  her  husband  strode  off 
without  once  looking  back. 


198  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

ON  the  following  morning  an  elderly  man  was  seen  walk 
ing  briskly  toward  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  lie  w<'is  a 
hale,  hearty  old  fellow,  not  too  fat  nor  thin  ;  with  a  merry, 
joyous  eye,  and  a  good-natured,  cheery  face  that  had  a  smile 
in  every  wrinkle.  He  was  dressed  in  a  plain  suit  of  black, 
and  under  his  arm  he  carried  a  cane,  which  he  sometimes 
transferred  to  his  hand,  for  the  purpose  of  using  it  in  walking. 
He  must  have  been  past  sixty,  for  his  hair  was  silvery  white ; 
yet  his  cheek  was  rosy,  and  his  step  firm  and  elastic,  like  one 
who,  in  spite  of  time  and  trouble,  kept  a  young  heart  in  his 
bosom ;  and  as  he  walked  briskly  along,  looking  now  at  the 
blue  sky,  now  at  the  houses,  now  at  the  throng  which  toiled 
through  the  street,  now  pausing  at  a  shop-window  to  ex 
amine  some  trifle  that  caught  his  fancy,  or  nodding  with  a 
frank,  good-humored  smile  to  a  passing  acquaintance,  there 
was  so  much  buoyancy  and  sunshine  in  him  that  it  made 
one  young  to  look  at  him.  It  was  just  the  day  too  to  meet 
such  a  man ;  a  soft,  warm  morning  in  the  midst  of  winter. 
Ice  and  snow  had  disappeared,  and  the  genial  hours  of  spring 
seemed  stealing  back  at  a  time  when  all  nature  was  bleak 
and  desolate. 

The  old  gentleman  had  a  companion,  who,  as  he  walked 
gaily  along,  pausing  or  increasing  his  pace  as  suited  his 
humor,  adapted  his  gait  to  his  ;  stopping  when  he  stopped, 
and  listening  quietly,  yet  with  deep  interest,  to  the  remark? 
which  dropped  from  him,  This  person  was  a  young  man  of 
three  or  four-and-twenty  •,  tall,  thin,  with  a  quick,  bright  eye, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  199 

black  hair,  and  pale  complexion.  There  was  a  strong  con 
trast  between  him  and  the  old  man.  There  was  more  of 
earnestness,  perhaps  of  sadness  in  his  expression,  and  he  bore 
the  look  of  one  who  had  buffeted  his  way  through  the  world, 
and  even  in  the  outset  of  life  had  become  a  stern  and  deter 
mined  man.  His  face,  however,  was  prepossessing;  for 
frankness  was  stamped  on  every  feature ;  and  when  he 
laughed,  which  he  frequently  did,  as  they  went  along,  there 
was  something  gushing,  heart-felt,  and  child-like  in  its  tone, 
which  showed  that  trouble  and  not  nature  had  wrinkled  his 
brow  and  saddened  his  spirit. 

They  were  conversing  on  matters  which  interested  both 
of  them  deeply,  although  that  interest  displayed  itself  differ 
ently  in  each. 

'  Keep  cool,  my  boy,  keep  cool ! '  said  the  old  man,  look 
ing  merrily  out  of  his  blue  eye,  and  placing  his  cane  under 
his  arm,  and  his  hands  under  his  coat-tails  ;  '  keep  cool ;  we  '11 
match  him  yet;  but  we  must  fight  him  with  his  own 
weapons.  Above  all  things,  do  n't  get  excited.' 

'  I  am  not  in  the  least  excited,'  replied  the  other  gravely. 
'  Indeed,  Doctor,  I  think  that  you  are  the  most  so  of  the  two,' 
said  he,  smiling.  Then,  after  a  pause,  he  asked :  '  Do  you 
think  her  father  ever  made  that  Will  ?  It  seems  scarcely 
possible.' 

'  I  do  n't  intend  to  think  about  it,'  replied  the  old  man. 
*  It 's  strange ;  but  strange  things  happen  every  day.  It  is 
strange  —  very  strange.  If  it  was  n't  for  the  sin  of  swear 
ing,  I  should  say  it  was  d d  strange,  if  that 's  any  com 
fort  to  you.' 

'  Well,'  said  his  companion,  laughing,  '  if  you  won't  com 
mit  yourself  on  that  point,  of  course  you  will  not  undertake 
to  think  whether  the  law  will  sustain  such  a  Will  or  not  ?"' 

'  Of  course  I  won't ;  for  that 's  just  what  we  are  going  to 


200  THE    ATTORNEY. 

a  lawyer  to  inquire  about,'  replied  Doctor  Thurston.  'After 
we  Ve  seen  him,  I  '11  think  boldly,  and  not  till  then.  Here  's 
the  place.'  As  he  spoke,  he  pointed  to  a  brick  building,  two 
stories  in  height,  be-labelled  from  top  to  bottom  with  small 
tin  signs,  indicating  in  gilt  letters  that  the  crop  of  attorneys 
was  numerous  and  flourishing.  Among  these  was  one  sign, 
discolored  and  gray,  and  almost  illegible  from  age.  On  it 
were  simply  the  words  *  D.  FISK.' 

'  That 's  the  man,'  said  the  Doctor,  pointing  to  the  sign. 
.*  He  '11  ferret  his  way  to  the  very  bottom  of  this  matter,  de 
pend  on  it.  I  know  him  well.' 

Having  thus  expressed  his  faith  in  the  abilities  of  the  pro 
fessional  gentleman  whose  territories  he  was  preparing  to 
invade,  he  opened  a  small  glass  door  at  the  bottom  of  a 
narrow  stair-way,  which  they  ascended,  and  found  themselves 
in  Mr.  Fisk's  outer  office. 

Law  certainly  engenders  dust  and  decay ;  for  every  thing 
was  covered  with  the  first,  and  seemed  in  a  very  advanced 
stage  of  the  last.  There  were  three  tables  in  the  office ; 
broken,  and  covered  with  ragged  baize;  six  or  seven  chairs, 
some  lame  of  a  leg,  and  one  or  two  deficient  in  an  arm,  or 
weak  in  the  back.  Loose  papers  were  lying  on  the  tables, 
and  empty  ink-bottles  and  old  hearth-brushes  under  them, 
half  buried  in  dust,  cobwebs,  and  shreds  of  paper,  apparently 
the  accumulated  sweepings  of  years ;  and  indicating,  either 
that  Mr.  Fisk  was  too  much  immersed  in  the  duties  of  his 
profession  to  care  about  the  cleanliness  of  his  office,  or  that 
dust,  cobwebs,  empty  bottles,  and  broken  chairs  and  tables, 
were  essential  to  the  proper  management  of  an  extensive  law 
practice. 

At  one  of  the  windows  a  young  gentleman,  belonging  to 
the  class  of  individuals  usually  denominated  *  students  at 
law,'  was  intently  occupied  in  blowing  his  breath  on  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  201 

panes,  and  cutting  the  initials  of  his  name  thereon  with  his 
fore-finger.  Another  young  man,  with  light  hair  and  spec 
tacles,  clad  in  a  coat  sufficiently  exploded  under  the  arras 
and  ragged  at  the  elbows  to  belong  to  that  class  of  habili 
ments  technically  called  '  office-coats,'  was  nodding  over  a 
lucid  work  on  law  practice ;  while  behind  him  at  the  fire  a 
third  student,  a  promising  young  gentleman,  attired  in  a 
black  coat,  out  at  the  elbows  and  deficient  in  buttons,  was 
engaged  in  the  rather  matter-of-fact  employment  of  roasting 
chestnuts  on  a  broken  shovel,  carefully  keeping  the  nuts  in 
their  place  with  the  feather-end  of  a  quill. 

In  front  of  the  fire,  with  his  back  to  it,  his  hands  in  his 
breeches-pockets,  a  pen  in  his  mouth,  and  one  behind  his 
ear,  indicating  that  it  required  the  active  exercise  of  several 
pens  at  the  same  time  to  keep  up  the  business  of  the  office, 
stood  Mr.  Cutbill,  a  gentleman  with  thin  whiskers  and  a 
Roman  nose.  He  was  the  head-clerk ;  worked  hard,  talked 
equally  hard  when  he  got  an  opportunity,  and  stood  in 
wholesome  awe  of  Mr.  Fisk,  on  whose  movements  in  the 
next  room  he  kept  a  wary  eye. 

'Ah  !  Doctor ! '  exclaimed  he,  advancing  and  offering  his 
hand  as  soon  as  he  saw  who  they  were ;  '  glad  to  see  you  ; 
very  glad  to  see  you.  In  law  again  ?  It  does  one  good  to 
get  a  Doctor  in  a  lawyer's  hands ;  indeed  it  does.  You  bleed 
us,  and  we  bleed  you  !  Ha !  ha !  But  I  suppose  you  '11 
pay  off  the  score  when  you  get  us  on  our  backs  ; '  and  Mr. 
Cutbill  rubbed  his  hands  together  joyously. 

Dr.  Thurston  laughed,  and  said  that  he  might  trust  him 
for  that. 

'  No  doubt,  no  doubt.  Sit  down,  Sir ;  sit  down,'  said  he, 
bowing  and  smirking. 

'  Can  I  see  Mr.  Fisk  ? '  inquired  Doctor  Thurston,  without 
taking  a  seat. 

9* 


202  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'He's  engaged  just  now,'  replied  the  clerk ;  '  quite  busy.' 

1  Will  he  be  so  long  ? ' 

Mr.  Cutbill  glanced  his  eye  into  the  next  room,  pursed  up 
his  inouth,  looking  at  the  ceiling  with  his  left  eye,  as  if  he 
were  going  through  some  abstruse  mathematical  calculation, 
by  which  he  would  be  enabled  to  give  the  precise  time  in 
minutes  and  seconds ;  after  which  he  said  he  thought  not, 
and  drew  the  skirts  of  his  coat  open  behind. 

'  Take  a  chair,'  said  he,  pointing  to  an  article  of  that  de 
scription  with  no  bottom  to  it.  '  Oh  !  ah !  I  beg  pardon ; 
do  n't  take  that ;  we  keep  that  for  the  long-winded  fellows 
who  tell  the  same  story  over  every  time  they  come  here. 
It 's  uncomfortable,  and  they  do  n't  sit  long.' 

Here  Mr.  Cutbill  laughed  in  a  subdued  manner,  and  said  : 
'  We  won't  give  you  that  chair,  Sir ; '  and  he  pushed  two 
others  toward  them. 

'  Fisk  has  his  hands  full,  eh  ? '  inquired  the  Doctor,  as  he 
and  his  friend  seated  themselves. 

'  Run  down,  Sir,  absolutely  run  down,'  replied  Mr.  Cutbill, 
straightening  himself  up,  and  throwing  out  his  chest  by  way 
of  exercise.  *  Clients,  clients,  from  morning  till  night.  In 
a  confidential  way,  Sir  :  he  has  the  best  run  of  clients  in  the 
city ;  all  first-raters.  I  think,'  continued  he,  relapsing  into 
a  deep  calculation,  '  that  I  may  say  Mr.  Fisk  has  not  a  single 
bad  client ;  none  of  those  who  sneak  into  an  office  as  if  they 
had  no  business  there  ;  none  of  those  who  open  the  door  on 
a  crack,  and  peep  in,  while  they  ask  advice ;  none  of  those 
who  knock :  now  take  my  advice,'  said  he,  growing  animated ; 
'  never  open  a  door  to  a  knock.  We  never  do  it  —  do  we, 
Torker  ? ' 

( Devil  a  bit ;  catch  us  at  it ! '  replied  the  person  thus  ad 
dressed.  After  which  he  breathed  violently  on  the  window- 
pane,  and  with  the  fore-finger  of  his  right  hand  cut  a  capital 
T  with  eminent  success. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  203 


'  If  you  do,'  continued  Mr.  Cutbill,  *  ten  to  one,  you  '11 
stumble  on  a  dun,  or  a  perambulating  female,  on  a  predatory 
excursion  for  some  unheard-of  charitable  society,  or  a  small 
gentleman  in  a  white  cravat,  seeking  to  found  a  church  on 
the  top  of  an  iceberg,  where  he  is  to  preach  to  the  Esqui 
maux  on  the  sin  of  luxury  and  high  living.  Confound  it ! 
Mr.  Juniper,'  exclaimed  he,  breaking  off  an  enumeration 
which  promised  to  be  a  long  one,  and  addressing  the  young 
gentleman  engaged  at  the  fire  :  '  you  '11  have  Fisk  on  us  if 
you  do  n't  keep  those  chestnuts  quiet.'  This  abrupt  remark 
was  elicited  by  a  succession  of  sudden  reports  emanating 
from  the  culinary  department,  like  a  volley  of  small  artil 
lery. 

*  Can't  help  it,'  replied  Mr.  Juniper,  composedly  continuing 
his  occupation ;  '  a  man  must  eat  when  he  's  hungry,  and 
chestnuts  will  bu'st  when  they  're  roasted.     I  wanted  a  knife 
to  nib  their  noses,  but  I  had  n't  one  ;  so  I  'm  blow'd  if  they 
may  n't  bu'st,  just  as  much  as  they  please.     You  're  always 
grumbling ;  but  bloody  ready  to  eat  'em.' 

Mr.  Cutbill  turned  very  red,  and  assumed  an  air  of  extreme 
dignity,  for  the  purpose  of  counteracting  any  derogatory 
effect  which  this  remark  might  have  on  the  clients.  At  the 
same  time  he  told  Mr.  Juniper  that  he  had  always,  up  to 
that  time,  supposed  him  to  be  a  gentleman.  In  reply  to 
which,  Mr.  Juniper  informed  him  that  he  had  thought  cor 
rectly,  but  as  for  him,  that  he  was  a  '  poor  squirt,'  and  if  he 
again  let  his  coat-tail  fall  in  the  shovel,  as  he  was  doing  at 
that  particular  moment,  he  would  set  it  on  fire. 

Further  conversation  of  the  same  pleasant  character  was 
interrupted  by  a  stir  in  the  inner  office. 

*  By  Jove  !  there  he  is  ! '  exclaimed  Mr.  Cutbill.     '  Go  in, 
Doctor,  and  you,  Sir,'  said  he,  bowing  to  his  companion. 
4  Quick !  —  do  n't  wait  for  him  to  come  here,  or  there  '11  be 


204  THE    ATTORNEY. 

the  deuce  to  pay.  That  Juniper,'  he  added,  sinking  his  voice, 
*  do  n't  care  a  straw  how  much  of  a  row  he  kicks  up,  because 
I  'm  head-clerk,  and  take  all  the  blame.  Mum  ! '  said  he, 
placing  his  finger  significantly  on  his  lips,  and  favoring  the 
Doctor  with  an  infinite  series  of  sudden,  sharp  winks.  At 
the  same  time  he  seized  a  law-book,  and  plunged  over  head 
and  ears  in  an  intense  perusal  of  its  contents.  The  door  of 
the  inner  room  opened,  and  a  voice  said,  '  Good-morning.' 
Then  a  man  passed  out,  nodding  slightly  to  Mr.  Cutbill,  who 
bowed  deferentially. 

Without  waiting  for  any  further  suggestion,  the  Doctor 
and  his  companion  ushered  themselves  into  the  presence  of 
Mr.  Fisk. 

He  was  a  small  man,  thin  and  wrinkled,  with  a  large, 
prominent,  and  bright  eye,  and  a  small,  tightly-closed  mouth. 
His  hair  was  matted  and  twisted  in  every  direction,  from  a 
habit  of  running  his  fingers  through  it  when  in  deep  thought  j 
but  other  than  this,  there  was  nothing  peculiar  about  him, 
except  an  immoderately  large  shirt-collar,  which  stuck  up 
under  his  ears,  apparently  supporting  his  head  on  his 
shoulders.  The  table  in  front  of  him  was  covered  with 
bundles  of  papers  tied  with  red  tape,  either  waiting  their 
turn  to  be  perused,  or  laid  aside  after  having  been  read  ;  and 
a  great  many  loose  ones  were  strewed  about.  All  the  chairs 
in  his  immediate  vicinity  were  covered  with  open  law-books, 
with  their  faces  down,  and  some  were  even  lying  on  the 
floor.  Before  him  was  a  paper  on  which  he  had  been  writing. 
When  they  entered,  being  deeply  engaged  in  investigating 
the  various  means  by  which  an  insurance  company  might 
receive  a  premium  of  insurance,  and  in  case  of  fire  not  pay 
its  policy,  he  did  not  look  up  until  Dr.  Thurston  spoke. 

'Ah !  Doctor  !  I  'm  glad  to  see  you.  Sit  down,'  said  he, 
pointing  to  a  chair. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  205 

'  This  is  Mr.  Francis  Wharton,  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you,' 
said  the  other,  by  way  of  introducing*  his  companion. 

The  lawyer  bowed  to  the  person  thus  presented  to  his 
notice,  and  shaking  hands  with  him,  again  requested  them 
to  be  seated.  At  the  same  time  he  took  a  chair  opposite 
them,  and,  without  speaking,  looked  at  them  as  if  to  know 
the  object  of  their  visit. 

'  I  came  here  on  the  same  business  about  which  Doctor 
Thurston  has  already  spoken  to  you,'  said  Wharton,  in  reply 
to  the  look,  which  seemed  more  particularly  directed  to  him. 

Mr.  Fisk  merely  bowed. 

'  I  am  not  aware  whether  the  particulars  were  fully  de 
tailed  then.' 

'  It  would  be  well  to  mention  them  again,'  said  Mr.  Fisk, 
quietly.  As  he  said  this,  he  pursed  his  mouth  up  into  a 
point,  and  folding  his  hands  on  the  top  of  his  head,  leaned 
back  in  his  chair,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  wall.  He  did 
not  speak  nor  move  until  Wharton  had  narrated  the  whole 
history  of  the  claim  set  up  by  Bolton,  and  of  his  two  inter 
views  with  Miss  Crawford.  He  mentioned  that  until  that 
Will  was  produced,  nothing  had  ever  transpired  to  make 
them  suppose  that  she  was  other  than  what  her  father  had 
always  represented  her  to  be,  his  legitimate  child.  When  he 
had  got  through,  Mr.  Fisk  sat  up  in  his  chair. 

4  And  you  intend  to  resist  the  probate  of  that  Will  ? '  said 
Mr.  Fisk,  quietly. 

'  Of  course  we  do  ! '  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  thumping  his 
cane  vehemently  on  the  floor.  '  I")  —  n  it,  Sir,  if  no  else 

will,  I'll  do  it; 

'On  what  ground?'  inquired  Mr.  Fi^k,  nibbing  a  pen, 
while  a  good  deal  of  fun  gleamed  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
eye. 

'  What  ground,  Sir  ? '  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  growing  more 


206  THE    ATTORNEY. 

and  more  excited  ;  '  what  ground,  Sir  ?  It  strikes  me  that 
the  ground  is  palpable  enough.  On  the  ground  that  it 's  a 
forgery,  Sir!'  and  the  Doctor  thumped  his  cane  on  the  floor, 
and  planted  himself  in  front  of  Mr.  Fisk,  as  if  he  had  settled 
the  whole  matter  at  once. 

Mr.  Fisk's  eye  gleamed  again,  and  he  gave  a  slight,  unsa 
tisfactory  cough  as  he  asked  :  '  What  proof  have  you  ? ' 

'  Proof,  Sir,  proof,  Sir ! '  again  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  rais 
ing  his  cane,  and  again  thumping  it  very  hard  against  the 
floor.  '  I  say,  Sir,  d  —  n  proof!  I  repeat  it,  Sir,  d  —  n  proof! 
It 's  the  greatest  stumbling-block  that  an  honest  man  ever 
had  in  the  way  of  his  rights.  Besides  that,'  exclaimed  he, 
as  a  bright  idea  flashed  across  his  mind,  '  the  Will  itself 
proves  it.  On  the  face  of  it  is  a  foul,  glaring  lie.  Does  n't 
it  call  this  girl  —  my  own  dear,  darling  little  Helen  —  a  — 
a  —  illegitimate.  Think  of  that,  Sir.' 

Had  Mr.  Fisk  wished  to  drive  his  client  out  of  his  senses, 
he  could  not  have  adopted  a  more  effectual  mode  than  the 
simple  reply  which  he  made,  '  Perhaps  she  is.' 

Doctor  Thurston  paced  up  and  down  the  room  for  nearly 
a  minute  before  he  could  speak,  and  then  he  exclaimed : 

*  My  God  !  Helen  Crawford  illegitimate  !  Have  n't  I 
known  her  since  she  was  no  higher  than  my  knee  ?  —  very 
shortly  before  her  mother's  death  ?  Did  n't  her  mother  on 
her  death-bed  call  me  to  her,  and  put  that  little  child  in  my 
arms  and  bless  it,  and  beg  me  to  love  and  watch  over  it  as 
if  it  were  my  own  ?  —  and  have  n't  I  done  so  ?  Crusty  and 
crabbed  an  old  fellow  as  I  am,  has  n't  there  always  been  a 
warm  spot  in  my  heart  for  her  ?  God  bless  her  !  and  do  n't 
I  love  that  dear  little  girl  more  than  all  the  world  beside  ? 
Would  n't  I  protect  her  with  my  heart's  blood  ?  I  'd  like  to 
see  the  man  who  'd  wrong  her  while  this  old  arm  can  strike 
a  blow  ! '  and  he  clutched  his  cane,  and  shook  it  fiercely,  as 


THE    ATTORNEY.  207 

if  at  that  moment  lie  would  have  derived  intense  satisfaction 
from  breaking  the  head  of  somebody.  *  I  '11  tell  you  what  it 
is,  Mr.  Fisk,'  said  he,  striding  up  to  the  table,  and  striking  his 
hand  vehemently  on  a  pile  of  law-papers,  and  thereby  rais 
ing  a  cloud  of  dust ;  '  if  she 's  illegitimate,  so  am  I ; '  and 
he  again  struck  his  fist  down,  as  if  he  had  driven  a  nail 
home  and  was  clenching  it. 

'  Did  you  see'  her  mother  married  ? '  inquired  Mr.  Fisk  ; 
'  did  you  ever  know  any  one  who  did  ?  —  or  did  you  ever  see 
her  marriage-certificate  ? ' 

'No.' 

'  Did  you  ever  see  the  clergyman  who  performed  the 
ceremony  ? ' 

'  How  could  I  ?  He  died  very  shortly  after  it ;  before  I 
knew  the  family.' 

'  Did  you  know  his  name  ?  —  and  did  you  ever  see  the 
church-record  containing  the  memorandum  of  their  mar 
riage  ? ' 

'No.' 

'  Do  you  know  where  it  took  place  ? ' 

'No.' 

'  Then  you  know  nothing  about  it,'  replied  Mr.  Fisk,  '  nor 
whether  it  is  true  or  not.  Her  father,  in  his  Will,  says  that 
she  is  a  natural  child ;  and  he  certainly  ought  to  know  some 
thing  about  it.' 

'  What 's  to  be  done  then  ? '  demanded  the  Doctor,  im 
patiently. 

'  I  '11  tell  you,'  said  Mr.  Fisk,  dropping  his  cold  manner, 
and  entering  with  some  warmth  into  the  feelings  of  his  client. 
'  Between  ourselves,  I  believe,  as  you  do,  that  the  Will  is  a 
forgery :  First,  because  I  know  something  of  Mr.  Crawford 
and  his  family,  and  believe  him  to  have  been  a  man  pure  in 
thought  and  deed  ;  and  next,  because  this  Bolton  is  no 


208  THE    ATTORNEY. 

stranger  to  me,  and  I  know  him  to  be  the  reverse  of  Mr, 
Crawford  in  all  respects.  I  tell  you  this  not  to  excite  your 
hopes,  but  to  arouse  your  industry;  for  suspicion  is  not  proof; 
and  unless  you  can  bring  something  more  than  this,  that 
Will  will  be  proved,  and  that  young  girl  will  be  stripped 
of  all  that  she  has.  You  must  ascertain  whether  Mr. 
Crawford  was  really  married  to  his  daughter's  mother ;  also 
when  and  where ;  the  name  of  the  clergyman,  and  of  those 
present  at  the  ceremony ;  and  whether  any  of  them  are  still 
living  ;  and  if  a  marriage  certificate  was  made  out,  who  saw" 
it,  and  what  has  become  of  it.  Any  thing  that  will  tend  to 
substantiate  Miss  Crawford's  legitimacy  will  be  useful  of 
course  only  to  cast  suspicion  on  the  Will.  You  might  also 
learn  whether  Mr.  Crawford  at  any  time  made  a  previous 
Will,  and  how  he  disposed  of  his  property  in  it ;  and  how 
he  there  mentions  his  daughter.  You  will  doubtless  collect 
much  that  will  be  totally  useless  and  inadmissible  as  evi 
dence  ;  but  find  out  every  thing  you  can,  and  I  will  sift  it 
afterwards.  When  you  are  able  to  give  me  more  definite 
information,  I  shall  be  able  to  advise  you  more  effectually. 
Your  opponent  is  a  vigilant  fellow,  and  one  who  manages 
his  cards  adroitly ;  and  I  will  frankly  tell  you  that  I  fear  you 
will  find  the  proof  of  these  matters  not  so  clear  as  you  ima 
gine.  You  may  be  sure  that  Bolton  examined  this  thing 
well,  and  knew  the  strength  of  your  testimony  to  a  hair, 
before  he  committed  himself  so  boldly  as  he  has  done.  He 
is  shrewd,  sagacious,  unprincipled,  and  would  stick  at  nothing 
to  accomplish  his  ends.' 

'  Depend  on  it,  he  never  offered  to  marry  Miss  Crawford 
without  some  ulterior  object.  He  was  afraid  of  her.  I  'd 
btake  my  life  on  it ! '  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  earnestly. 

4  It  looks  suspicious  indeed,'  replied  the  lawyer,  drumming 
with  his  fingers  on  the  table.  *  Who  did  you  say  were  the 
witnesses  ? ' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  209 

'  Two  fellows  I  never  heard  of.     I  forget  their  names.' 

'  Bolton  has  not  yet  applied  for  letters  testamentary,  I 
suppose  ? '  said  the  lawyer. 

'  I  do  n't  know,'  replied  Doctor  Thurston,  '  but  I  think  not. 
He  told  Miss  Crawford  that  he  intended  to.  She  has  not 
heard  from  him  since.' 

*  She  being  illegitimate,  it  would  not  be  necessary  to  serve 
a  citation  on  her.' 

Mr.  Fisk  kept  drumming  on  the  table  for  some  time,  and 
then  said,  at  the  same  time  rising,  to  give  them  a  hint  that 
they  had  occupied  enough  of  his  time,  *  I  '11  attend  to  it ;  and 
you  must  n't  fail  to  tell  me  whatever  you  learn.  At  all 
events,  we  will  attend  at  the  proving  of  the  Will,  and  will 
sift  the  testimony  of  their  witnesses  thoroughly.  Good- 
morning.' 

He  bowed  as  he  spoke,  and  neither  the  Doctor  nor  his 
companion  having  any  more  to  communicate,  took  their 
leave. 


210  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

4  Now  then  to  my  work  ! '  muttered  the  attorney,  a  fe'R 
days  after  his  interview  with  Miss  Crawford  ;  '  there 's  no 
thing  left  but  law,  and  every  thing  depends  on  skill  and 
management.' 

Now  that  he  had  abandoned  all  hope  of  an  amicable  com 
promise,  and  was  determined  to  advance,  and  support  his 
claim  at  all  hazards,  and  to  abide  the  event,  whatever  it 
might  be,  he  was  a  different  man  ;  cold,  calm,  and  calculat 
ing.  He  measured  every  difficulty  with  deliberate  fore 
thought,  fortified  every  weak  part  of  his  cause,  and  shutting 
his  eyes  to  those  things  which  might  happen  to  blast  him, 
but  which  he  could  not  prevent,  he  waited  patiently  for  the 
result.  He  lost  no  time  in  presenting  the  Will  for  probate  ; 
and  to  avoid  all  appearance  of  apprehension,  he  caused  a 
citation  to  be  served  on  Miss  Crawford,  apprising  her  of  the 
time  when  the  Will  would  be  proved,  and  summoning  her  to 
attend.  These  steps  taken,  nothing  more  could  be  done  for 
fifteen  days,  as  the  law  required  the  lapse  of  that  space  of 
time  between  the  serving  of  the  citation  and  the  proving  of 
the  Will ;  and  fifteen  days  of  intense  anxiety  they  were  to 
Bolton. 

In  the  meanwhile,  neither  the  friends  nor  the  counsel  of 
Miss  Crawford  had  been  idle,  although  they  kept  their  pro 
ceedings  profoundly  quiet.  On  questioning  her,  they  learned 
that  her  father  had  frequently  spoken  of  his  marriage  with 
her  mother,  who  was  poor  and  an  orphan  at  the  time,  and 
that  by  reason  of  opposition  on  the  part  of  his  parents,  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  211 

ceremony  had  been  performed  in  secret,  and  with  none  pre 
sent  except  the  clergyman  and  two  witnesses.  She  had 
never  heard  the  names  either  of  the  clergyman  or  of  those 
who  were  present  at  the  ceremony,  nor  had  she  seen  her 
mother's  marriage-certificate.  She  knew  that  she  had  once 
possessed  one,  but  she  believed  it  to  be  lost.  In  the  course 
of  their  investigations,  however,  they  stumbled  upon  a  Will 
made  by  Mr.  Crawford  several  years  previous  to  his  death, 
in  which  he  mentioned  Helen  Crawford  as  his  only  child  by 
his  wife  Catherine,  and  left  to  her  all  his  property.  On  this 
'  instrument,'  however,  there  was  a  memorandum  stating  that 
it  had  been  revoked  by  a  Will  of  a  later  date,  which  they 
were  unable  to  find. 

These  facts  having  been  communicated  to  Mr.  Fisk,  fully 
awakened  his  suspicions,  and  he  knuckled  down  to  his  work 
in  good  earnest.  He  set  on  foot  inquiries  respecting  the 
character  of  Wilkins  and  Higgs,  by  which  he  discovered 
that  they  were  men  of  the  worst  possible  reputation  ;  fami 
liar  with  crime,  and  the  intimates  of  those  who  followed  it 
as  a  regular  means  of  livelihood ;  and  as  he  proceeded  in 
his  investigations,  many  other  little  matters  leaked  out  re 
specting  those  two  gentlemen,  which,  in  all  probability,  they 
would  have  preferred  should  have  been  known  only  to  them 
selves.  By  his  ingenuity  also,  a  friendly  communication 
was  opened  with  persons  frequenting  the  same  haunts  with 
the  two  confederates,  and  several  of  them  were  paid  to  keep 
an  eye  on  their  motions  and  conversation,  and  to  report  what 
they  discovered  to  the  watchful  lawyer.  Little,  however, 
was  gained  in  this  way ;  for  Wilkins  was  too  sullen  and 
moody,  and  Higgs  too  much  on  his  guard,  to  let  any  thing 
escape  that  might  implicate  them.  They,  however,  were 
several  times  traced  to  the  lawyer's  office,  and  had  once  or 
twice  been  observed  in  earnest  and  excited  conversation  with 
him  in  the  street. 


212  THE    ATTORNEY. 

The  visits  of  Wilkins  to  the  widow  had  likewise  been 
observed,  and  as  they  were  frequent,  Mr.  Fisk  naturally  sup 
posed  that  his  intimacy  in  that  quarter  must  be  great ;  *and 
with  no  other  object  than  that  of  leaving  nothing  untried, 
he  determined  to  spring  a  mine  in  that  direction.  Matters 
were  in  this  state,  when,  about  nine  o'clock  one  cold  frosty 
morning,  a  stout  man  with  a  pimpled  face,  verging  into  pur 
ple  toward  the  end  of  his  nose,  opened  the  door  of  a  small 
tavern  in  the  neighborhood  of  Centre-street,  and  stepped 
into  the  open  air.  He  looked  up  and  down  the  street,  then 
at  the  sky  ;  stamped  his  thick  cane  shod  with  iron  heavily 
on  the  pavement,  and  cleared  his  throat ;  after  which  he 
deliberately  placed  his  cane  under  his  arm,  and  buttoned  his 
coat  to  his  chin.  This  done,  he  turned  slowly  round,  and 
looked  in  the  door. 

'  Come  along,  you  cuss,  will  yer  ?  P'raps  you're  waiting 
for  a  persuader.  If  y*  are,  ye  '11  get  it,  blast  yer  ! '  And  he 
shook  his  heavy  stick  insinuatingly  at  the  object  of  his  re 
marks. 

Thus  encouraged,  a  large  white  bull-dog  walked  to  the 
door,  with  a  step  as  deliberate  as  that  of  his  master,  stared 
up  and  down  the  street,  then  at  the  sky,  in  the  same  man 
ner  as  the  gentleman  who  preceded  him  had  done ;  after 
which  he  seated  himself  on  end,  and  looked  pleasantly  up  in 
the  face  of  Mr.  Rawley,  as  if  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  a 
volley  of  epithets  which  that  gentleman  was  just  then 
showering  upon  him,  and  as  if  he  wished  him  not  to  hurry 
himself  in  the  least. 

Mr.  Rawley  having  unbottled  his  anger,  pulled  the  door 
of  his  house  shut,  put  his  stick  under  his  arm,  and  thrusting 
his  hands  in  his  breeches-pockets,  walked  briskly  down  the 
street,  followed  by  Bitters,  who  kept  so  close  at  his  heels  that 
it  seemed  a  matter  of  some  singularity  that  his  nose  escaped 
collision  with  them. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  213 

Mr.  Rawley  walked  on  for  some  distance,  when  suddenly 
he  stopped  and  uncorked  again  :  *  Come  along,  you  cuss !  — • 
you  in^er-nal  cuss  !  Must  I  be  a  bu'stin'  my  lungs  all  day, 
a  callin'  arter  yer  ? ' 

These  remarks  were  addressed  to  Bitters,  who  was  again 
delinquent,  and  who  had  paused  at  the  corner  of  a  street  to 
watch  the  progress  of  a  fight  which  was  going  on  between 
two  small  dogs,  with  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur  who  seemed 
desirous  of  dropping  a  hint  or  two  to  them  on  the  subject. 

1  Come  here,  I  say  ! '  shouted  Mr.  Rawley,  brandishing  his 
cudgel. 

Bitters  approached  in  an  oblique  direction,  which  brought 
him  a  little  nearer  his  master,  and  a  great  deal  nearer  the 
combatants,  and  paused,  and,  looking  over  his  shoulder  at 
his  master,  winked  his  eyes  slowly,  at  the  same  time  making 
a  painful  effort  at  swallowing,  which  showed  that  his  feelings 
were  deeply  interested. 

*  Come  here,  will  yer  ? '  bawled  out  Mr.  Rawley. 
Bitters  deliberated  a  moment,  then  pitched  headlong  into 

the  fight,  and  shook  both  dogs  violently,  by  which  piece  of 
exercise  being  apparently  much  relieved,  he  went  to  within 
twenty  feet  of  his  master,  and  placidly  seated  himself,  wait- 
for  him  to  go  on. 

*  Have  n't  I  brung  you  up  in  the  best  of  'ciety,  yer  brute 
yer  ?  and  is  this  the  way  you  're  going  for  to  disgrace  me, 
by  stickin'  yer  ugly  muzzle  into  every  wulgar  rumpus  atwixt 
all  low-lived  mongrels  you  meet,  and  you  a  reg'lar  thorough 
bred  bull  ?     Do  it  ag'in,  that's  all ;  do  it  ag'in  ! ' 

And  Mr.  Rawley  shook  his  stick  ferociously  at  the  dog, 
who  kept  at  a  respectful  distance  until  his  master  had  become 
somewhat  mollified,  after  which  he  gradually  narrowed  the 
space  between  them,  until  he  followed  as  before,  with  his 
nose  almost  touching  his  heel. 


214  THE    ATTORNEY. 

It  -was  a  fine  cold  morning.  The  air  was  quiet ;  the  sun 
shone  cheerily,  and  every  thing  looked  gay  and  bright. 
Even  the  old  houses  in  that  ruinous  part  of  the  city  had  a 
fresh  appearance.  Mr.  Rawley  walked  sturdily  on,  thump 
ing  his  cane  on  the  stones  until  they  rang,  and  clearing  his 
throat  manfully.  He  struck  into  Chatham- street,  and  along 
that  thoroughfare  he  directed  his  course,  jostling  his  way 
through  the  crowd,  and  making  way  for  nobody.  Through 
Chatham-street,  along  the  Park,  and  down  Broadway  he 
pursued  his  way,. and  close  at  his  heels  followed  Bitters,  until 
they  came  near  Wall-street,  a  few  blocks  above  which  Mr. 
Rawley  turned  off  into  Nassau-street.  It  was  early  in  the 
day,  and  that  narrow  street  was  thronged  with  people,  among 
whom  he  drifted  on,  until  he  came  to  the  small  two-story 
building,  on  the  outside  of  which  Mr.  Fisk  kept  his  sign,  and 
in  the  inside  of  which  he  kept  his  office. 

He  ascended  the  outer  steps,  and  pulled  open  the  door  at 
the  foot  of  the  inner  staircase. 

'  Go  up  ! '  said  he,  holding  open  the  door,  and  looking  over 
his  shoulder  at  the  dog. 

In  obedience  to  his  hint,  and  aided  by  the  application  of 
Mr.  Rawley's  foot  which  accompanied  it,  Bitters  preceded 
his  master  until  he  reached  the  top  of  the  stairs,  where  he 
gave  a  short  asthmatic  cough,  and  seated  himself. 

'  Is  this  'ere  where  Mr.  Fisk  keeps  ? '  inquired  Mr.  Rawley, 
after  he  had  attained  the  same  eminence  with  the  dog,  and 
looking  very  hard  at  Mr.  Cutbill,  who  was  looking  equally 
hard  at  Bitters. 

1  This  is  his  office,'  replied  the  head-clerk,  continuing  his 
earnest  gaze  at  the  clog. 

Mr.  Rawley,  on  receiving  the  answer,  took  off  his  hat  and 
placed  it  on  the  floor,  laid  his  stick  beside  it,  pulled  off  his 
gloves  and  threw  them  in  his  hat,  unbuttoned  his  coat  and 


THE    ATTORNEY.  215 

shook  it  gently,  after  which  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  dirty 
spectacle-case,  and  an  equally  dirty  pocket-book  of  a  large 
size.  Laying  the  last  on  his  knee,  he  opened  the  first,  and 
fixing  a  pair  of  iron  spectacles  on  his  nose,  he  proceeded  to 
unstrap  the  pocket-book,  from  which  he  took  a  letter, 
smoothed  it  on  his  knee,  and  without  saying  a  word,  reached 
it  to  Mr.  Cutbill.  Having  successfully  accomplished  this 
feat,  with  equal  deliberation  he  replaced  the  pocket-book  and 
•spectacles,  buttoned  his  breeches-pocket,  pulled  down  his 
waistcoat,  and  stared  Mr.  Cutbill  full  in  the  face. 

That  gentleman  read  the  letter  through,  and  then  said  : 

'  Oh,  Sir,  you  're  Mr.  Rawley  ? ' 

'  Yes,  Sir,  I  am  that  individooal.'  And  Mr.  Rawley  looked 
as  if  asking,  'And  now  that  you  know  it,  what  are  you  going 
to  do  about  it  ? ' 

*  I  'm  delighted  to  see  you  ;  and  so  will  Mr.  Fisk  be,'  said 
Mr.  Cutbill,  advancing,  and  rubbing  his  hands.  '  We  were 
quite  anxious  to  see  you,  indeed  we  were.  A  fine  dog  that, 
Sir,  a  very  fine  dog  ! ' 

'  He  is  a  fine  dog,'  replied  Mr.  Rawley,  with  some  empha 
sis ;  'a  remarkable  fine  one.' 

'Upon  my  soul,  I  think  I  never  saw  a  finer.  A  pointer, 
I  think  ? ' 

'  JSTo,  Sir ;  a  bull  —  a  regular  bull ;  a  real  out-and-outer.' 

'  Fine  fellow  !  —  fine  fellow  !  Poor  pup  —  pup  — pup  ! ' 
said  Mr.  Cutbill,  looking  insinuatingly  at  Bitters,  and  patting 
his  own  knee  as  his  proxy,  by  way  of  hinting  to  him  that 
his  intentions  were  friendly.  '  Is  he  vicious  ?  I  hope  he  a'n't.' 

4  He  wicious  !  Let  me  catch  him  a-being  wicious  —  that 's 
all !  He  never  killed  no  body.  He  used  a  young  nigger 
rather  rough  last  fall,  and  bit  a  hole  in  the  bowels  of  a  small 
Irish  infant ;  but  it  was  all  in  play.  He 's  the  best-natured- 
est  dog  in  the  world,  if  you  let  him  alone.' 


216  THE    ATTORNEY. 

4  Oh !  we  won't  disturb  him  then,'  said  Mr.  Cutbill,  in 
creasing  the  distance  between  himself  and  the  amiable  ani 
mal  ;  *  we  won't  notice  him  ;  but  he  's  a  prodigiously  fine 
dog.  I  think  Mr.  Fisk  is  at  leisure  to  see  you  ;  and  you  had 
better  go  in  and  take  him  with  you.  I  'm  sure  Mr.  Fisk  will 
admire  him ;  he 's  such  a  noble  specimen  —  so  like  a  lion. 
If  he  do  n't  like  my  looking  at  him,  I  won't.  He  looks  as 
if  he  did  n't.' 

'  It  a'  n't  you  that 's  a  'citing  him,'  replied  Mr.  Rawley ; 
'  it 's  that  chap  there,'  said  he,  pointing  to  Mr.  Juniper,  who 
was  saluting  the  dog  with  sundry  pellets  of  chewed  paper, 
ejected  through  a  tube ;  while  Bitters,  laboring  under  the 
delusion  that  his  nose  was  beset  by  divers  flies,  of  a  species 
hitherto  unknown,  kept  snapping  in  every  direction.  '  Let 
me  tell  you  this,  my  chicken,'  continued  Mr.  Rawley :  '  that 
there  dog's  name  is  Bitters ;  and  he  did  n't  get  that  name 
for  nothing,  I  tell  yer.  If  you've  cut  your  wisdom-grinders, 
you  '11  let  that  animal  alone ;  for  when  his  dander 's  fairly 
riz,  he 's  h  - 11  for  assault  and  battery.  A  gentleman  worried 
that  same  dog  one  fine  day,  and  the  next  year  that  same 
gen'leman  wore  a  wooden  leg.  I  only  mention  the  fact; 
that 's  all.' 

'  Mr.  Juniper,  for  God's  sake,  do  n't  disturb  the  animal ! ' 
exclaimed  Mr.  Cutbill,  earnestly ;  '  of  all  abominable  things, 
cruelty  to  dumb  beasts  is  the  worst.  Poor  fellow!  poor 
fellow  !  I  hope  he  do  n't  make  mistakes  when  he 's  excited, 
and  bite  the  wrong  person  ? ' 

'  Not  often  ;  but  he  does  sometimes,  'specially  when  he  's 
aggravated  about  the  nose.' 

'  Indeed !  ah !  I  think  you  had  better  step  in  the  next 
room ;  Mr.  Fisk  will  see  you  at  once.  He  's  very  anxious  to. 
Walk  in,  Sir ;  do  walk  in.  Take  the  dog  with  you  ;  a  splen 
did  animal !  —  beautiful !  —  a  perfect  study  ! '  And  Mr. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  217 

Cutbill  fairly  bowed  Mr.  Rawley  and  his  companion  into  the 
back  office,  and  shut  the  door. 

Mr.  Rawley  remained  for  some  time  shut  up  with  Mr. 
Fisk,  and  when  he  came  out,  both  he  and  Bitters  wore  an 
air  of  profound  mystery.  He  looked  at  Mr.  Cutbill,  and 
then  strode  down  the  steps  without  saying  a  word.  Bitters 
had  already  descended  two  steps,  in  pursuance  of  his  exam 
ple,  when  he  detected  Mr.  Juniper  in  the  act  of  throwing  the 
cover  of  a  book  at  his  head ;  and  turning  short  round,  was 
ascending  for  the  purpose  of  taking  a  gentlemanly  notice  of 
the  aggression,  when  he  was  arrested  by  the  voice  of  Mr. 
Rawley.  He  paused  on  the  top  step,  looked  Mr.  Juniper 
full  in  the  face,  raised  his  upper  lip,  and  favored  him  with  a 
sarcastic  smile  which  displayed  all  his  teeth,  and  then 
quietly  descended  the  steps,  and  made  his  egress  from  the 
door,  being  somewhat  aided  therein,  as  in  his  ascent,  by  a 
kick  from  his  master.  Mr.  Rawley  had  scarcely  emerged 
from  the  office  into  the  street,  when  he  stopped  short,  called 
his  dog  to  his  heel,  deliberately  reascended  to  Mr.  Fisk's 
room,  took  a  chair,  drew  it  directly  opposite  to  Mr.  Fisk,  sat 
down,  and  planting  his  hands  on  his  knees,  said : 

'  Suppose  a  feller  comes  to  my  place,  and  drinks  brandy- 
and-water  all  the  evening  —  sum  total,  fifty  cents  —  and 
do  n't  pay :  what  then  ? ' 

Mr.  Fisk  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  as  if  to  find  out 
what  he  meant,  and  then  quietly  replied  : 

'  Do  n't  give  him  any  more.' 

'  That  won't  pay  for  wot  he 's  swallered  already,'  very  justly 
remarked  Mr.  Rawley. 

'  No,  but  it  will  prevent  his  getting  more  deeply  in  your 
debt,'  was  the  answer. 

Mr.  Rawley  pondered  over  this  for  a  moment,  and  then 
suggested,  in  a  somewhat  insinuating  tone : 
10 


218  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Could  n't  I  just  take  it  out  of  his  hide  ? ' 

Mr.  Fisk  shook  his  head. 

4  Do  you  mean  to  say,  said  Mr.  Rawley,  becoming  em 
phatic,  '  that  if  an  individooal  comes  to  my  tavern,  drinks  my 
liquor,  and  on  being  most  respectfully  invited  to  pay  for  that 
same,  refuses,  that  I  can't  lick  him  ? ' 

*  I  do,'  replied  Mr.  Fisk. 

Mr.  Rawley  drew  in  his  breath  hard,  and  set  his  teeth. 
4  D  —  n  me  if  I  believe  that 's  law  ! '  muttered  he ;  '  and  cuss 
me  if  I  do  n't  try.' 

He  rose  abruptly,  and  stalked  out  the  office  as  unceremo 
niously  as  he  had  entered,  Bitters  following  with  his  nose 
within  six  inches  of  his  heel. 

That  gentleman  now  directed  his  course  to  the  upper  part 
of  the  city.  He  did  not  stop  at  his  own  tavern,  but  dodged 
in  and  out  of  various  places  in  obscure  parts  of  the  town. 
He  had  undertoned  gossipirigs  in  corners  with  several  suspi 
cious  fellows,  apparently  obtaining  but  little  satisfaction  to 
his  inquiries.  He  then  went  to  Wilkins's  house,  and  had  a 
long  conversation  with  the  red-headed  lodger  on  the  second 
floor,  who  treated  him  with  singular  deference.  Thence  he 
directed  his  steps  to  a  small  house  in  the  Bowery  ;  and  very 
shortly  after  might  have  been  seen,  holding  by  the  button  no 
less  a  person  than  Aaron,  the  drab-colored  body-guard  of 
Mrs.  Dow.  Their  colloquy  must  have  been  most  satisfactory, 
for  he  chuckled  and  laughed  to  himself  as  he  left  him,  and 
snapped  his  fingers,  and  swore  lustily  at  the  dog,  which  last 
demonstration  of  pleasure  he  did  not  intermit  until  he 
reached  his  own  house. 

What  the  nature  of  the  conversation  was,  which  had  thus 
elated  him,  has  not  transpired  ;  but  during  the  whole  of  the 
evening  succeeding  it,  Aaron  was  observed  to  wear  an  air  of 
profound  and  uneasy  gravity.  He  shook  his  head  portent- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  219 

ously,  and  threw  out  so  many  cloudy  hints  that  a  certain 
gentleman  who  should  be  nameless,  but  whom  they  all  knew, 
and  particularly  Mrs.  Dow,  and  who  came  in  and  out  of  a 
certain  house  as  if  it  were  his  own,  and  spoke  to  a  certain 
respectable  man-servant  as  if  he  were  a  dog,  would  '  get  his 
bitters  soon,'  that  the  red-haired  cook  with  prominent  teeth, 
to  use  her  own  expression, '  was  ready  to  bu'st  with  cur'osity.' 

A  dozen  times  in  the  course  of  the  evening  Aaron  thrust 
his  head  in  the  little  parlor,  (where  Mrs.  Dow  was  dozing 
over  a  large  Bible  and  a  small  Prayer-book,  with  a  stove 
under  her  feet,)  to  see  what  the  hour  was.  Eight  o'clock 
came,  then  nine ;  a  quarter  after,  then  half  after,  and  at  last 
ten.  As  the  clock  struck,  Mrs.  Dow  lighted  an  under-sized 
lamp,  with  a  particularly  large  extinguisher  attached  to  it 
by  a  brass  chain,  and  examined  all  the  windows,  doors,  and 
latches,  to  see  that  they  were  properly  secured.  Having 
satisfied  herself  in  this  particular,  and  having  thrust  a  long, 
sharp-pointed  stick,  with  spasmodic  violence,  under  every 
chair,  sofa  and  side-board,  and  into  every  dark  closet  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  house,  and  having  closely  scrutinized  every 
drawer  of  sufficient  magnitude  to  contain  any  thing  larger 
than  a  rat,  she  felt  morally  certain  that  there  were  no  hidden 
interlopers  in  the  house ;  and  accordingly  took  herself  off  to 
bed,  first  giving  Aaron  a  particular  caution  not  to  set  the 
house  on  fire  in  any  accidental  manner  whatever. 

No  sooner  did  Aaron  hear  the  door  of  her  room  double- 
locked,  and  the  bolt  drawn,  than  he  clapped  on  his  broad- 
brimmed  hat  and  sallied  out ;  and  being  somewhat  flurried 
at  the  stealthy  nature  of  this  proceeding,  he  ran  with  all  his 
might  two  blocks,  in  a  direction  contrary  to  that  which  he 
intended  to  take  before  he  recovered  his  presence  of  mind. 
He  then  buttoned  his  coat  up  to  his  chin,  fixed  his  hat 
firmly  on  his  head,  and  changed  his  course. 


220  THE    ATTORNEY. 

The  crowd  had  begun  to  thin  off  from  the  more  public 
streets,  and  the  narrow  ones  were  comparatively  quiet  and 
deserted.  It  was  a  long  time  since  Aaron  had  ventured  out 
at  such  an  unseemly  hour,  and  his  courage  being  of  the 
passive  rather  than  the  active  kind,  he  began  to  feel  far  from 
comfortable  at  the  loneliness  about  him.  He  kept  a  wary 
eye  on  all  the  shadowy  parts  of  the  street,  and  gave  a  wide 
berth  to  every  alley,  which  he  felt  certain  was  a  lurking-place 
for  tall,  black-bearded  ruffians,  armed  with  ropes,  ready  to 
sally  out  and  strangle  him  on  the  spot,  pack  him  up  in  an 
empty  pork-barrel,  and  sell  him  to  some  eminent  physician, 
who  would  ask  no  questions,  but  would  quietly  boil  him 
down,  and  make  a  skeleton  of  him  before  that  time  to 
morrow  night.  At  length  he  came  to  a  street  more  dimly 
lighted  than  the  others,  and  at  the  corner  of  this  he  stopped. 
It  was  so  dark  that  he  could  not  see  a  hundred  yards  ;  but 
within  that  space  there  was  no  one  stirring. 

*  Here 's  a  go ! '  muttered  he,  looking  suspiciously  about ; 
*  a  wery  lonesome  street !  How  a  man  might  be  invited  to 
die  here,  wiolent !  It  smells  of  murder  and  arson,  and  sich. 
No  matter,'  said  he,  clearing  his  throat  loudly,  and  straight 
ening  himself  up  :  '  I  'm  under  diwine  pertection  here  as  well 
as  in  my  bed ;  though  it  does  strike  me  that  diwine  pertec 
tion  in  my  bed  is  a  securer  kind  of  pertection  than  diwine 
pertection  just  in  this  neighborhood.' 

He  continued  standing  for  some  time,  as  if  in  expectation 
of  the  arrival  of  some  person  ;  but  the  only  one  who  did 
make  his  appearance  being  a  man  of  a  very  cut-throat  ex 
pression,  who  loitered  slowly  past  him,  his  resolution  was  fast 
evaporating. 

'  If  he  is  n't  here  in  five  minutes,'  he  muttered,  *  I  'm  off.' 

To  employ  his  thoughts  during  that  interval,  he  devoutly 
struck  into  a  hymn,  which,  considering  the  circumstances,  he 


THE    ATTORNEY.  221 

was   delivering  with   great  fervor,  when  a  gruff  voice  ex 
claimed  in  his  ear :  4 

'  What  yer  raisin'  such  a  row  about  ?  If  there  is  a  land 
of  pure  delight,  where  saints  infernal  dwell,  as  you  're  tellin' 
all  this  'ere  neighborhood,  this  a'  n't  it.' 

*  Is  it  you,  Mr.  Rawley  1 '  inquired  Aaron,  in  a  subdued 
tone. 

'To  be  sure  it  is  ;  and  you  —  you  're  the  rummest  man 
of  your  years  I  ever  did  see.  Here  's  this  'ere  animal,'  said 
he,  pointing  to  his  dog,  '  has  been  a  wantin'  to  walk  into 
your  mutton  ever  since  we  turned  the  corner.  He  hates 
melancholy  tunes,  and  supposed  you  wanted  to  pick  a  quar 
rel  with  him.' 

'  It  is  a  lonely  spot,  and  a  savage,'  replied  Aaron  gravely. 

'  Pshaw  !  come  along !  There  a'  n't  much  danger  when 
you  've  got  him  with  you  ; '  and  Mr.  Rawley  nodded  his  head 
toward  Bitters. 

Without  further  remark,  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  walked 
rapidly  on,  (followed  by  his  dog  and  Aaron,)  until  he  had 
crossed  Broadway,  and  found  himself  in  front  of  a  large 
house  in  the  neighborhood  of  Hudson-Square.  Here  he 
stopped. 

*  You  wait  here  till  I  call  you,'  said  he.     He  ascended  the 
steps,  rang  the  door-bell,  and  in  a  few  moments  was  ushered 
into  a  richly-furnished  room.     At  a  table  sat  Mr.  Fisk  en 
gaged  in  writing.     A  number  of  papers  were  unfolded  in 
front  of  him  ;  and  one  or  two  law-books  were  lying  open,  as 
if  he  had  just  been  referring  to  them. 

He  looked  up  as  Mr.  Rawley  entered,  but  did  not  speak 
or  rise. 

Mr.  Rawley  deliberately  walked  to  the  table,  laid  his  cane 
on  it,  and  wiping  his  forehead  with  a  cotton  handkerchief 
which  he  drew  from  his  hat,  said  : 


222  THE    ATTORNEY. 

4 1  Ve  brung  the  indiwidooal.' 
4  Who  ? '  demanded  Mr.  Fisk. 

*  Him  —  the  widder's  man  —  the  one  we  was  arter.' 

*  Where  is  he  3 ' 

'  In  the  street.     You  need  n't  call  him  till  you  want  him.' 
'  I  want  him  now ;  besides,  he  might  get  tired  and  go  off.' 
There  was  something  so  ludicrous  in  the  idea  of  Aaron's 
going  off,  that  Mr.  Rawley  shut  his  eyes,  and,  compressing 
his  lips,  indulged  in  a  violent  fit  of  internal  laughter,  which 
threatened  to  shake  him  to  pieces,  and  caused  his  stomach 
to  quiver  and  undulate  like  a  large  jelly. 
When  he  had  partly  recovered,  he  said : 
1  Bless  your  soul !     He  go  !     He  can't !     When  I  came 
in,  I  tipped  Bitters  a  wink  ;  that  was  enough.     Let  him  go 
off  arter  that,  that 's  all.     If  he  does,  he  '11  leave  a  pound  of 
man's  flesh  in  the  keeping  of  that  there  waluable  animal.' 
And  here  Mr.  Rawley  was  attacked  by  another  violent  fit  of 
merriment.     '  There  a'  n't  a  constable,'  he  continued,  '  nor 
deputy-sheriff  like  him  for  hanging  on.     A  bone  won't  buy 
him  off.     He  settles  all  the  quarrels  atwixt  me  and  my  cus 
tomers,  and  seems  to  take  a  pride  in  it.' 

Mr.  Fisk  then  told  him  that  as  it  was  growing  late,  it 
would  be  better  to  introduce  Aaron  at  once.  Whereupon 
Mr.  Rawley  left  the  room,  and  in  a  few  minutes  returned, 
followed  by  the  man-servant  and  the  dog.  The  latter  walked 
stiffly  across  the  room,  and  seated  himself  on  the  rug  directly 
in  front  of  the  fire,  while  Aaron  paused  at  the  door.  Mr. 
Fisk  told  him  to  come  in,  and  to  take  a  chair,  which  he  did ; 
and  having  perched  himself  in  a  very  uncomfortable  position 
on  the  extreme  edge  of  it,  attempted  to  look  about  him  with 
an  air  of  total  unconcern,  in  which  he  signally  failed.  Mr. 
Rawley  in  the  mean  time  betook  himself  to  a  large  arm-chair, 
planted  the  end  of  his  cane  firmly  on  the  floor,  and  clasping 


THE    ATTORNEY.  223 

both  hands  over  the  head  of  it,  rested  his  chin  on  them,  and 
rolled  his  eyes  from  Aaron  to  the  lawyer  with  a  look  of  keen 
and  cunning  interest. 

Mr.  Fisk,  after  a  few  casual  remarks,  during  which  Aaron 
so  far  recovered  his  composure  as  to  settle  himself  in  the 
chair,  asked  him  if  he  were  acquainted  with  one  George 
Wilkins. 

'  Of  course  I  am,'  replied  Aaron,  confidently ;  '  have  n't  I 
let  him  in  at  the  widder's  twice  a  week  reg'lar,  except  the 
two  months  he  was  away  at  the  South  \ ' 

Mr.  Fisk  made  a  memorandum  on  a  piece  of  paper. 
'  Now,  Aaron,'  said  he,  *  I  want  you  to  answer  all  my  ques 
tions  as  accurately  as  if  you  were  under  oath.  You  know 
my  object,  I  suppose  ? ' 

'This  gen'leman,'  said  Aaron,  pointing  to  Mr.  Rawley, 
'  says  you  're  to  prevent  Wilkins  from  marrying  the  widder. 
I  want  the  same  thing  too.' 

Mr.  Fisk  looked  at  Mr.  Rawley,  who  was  going  through 
a  series  of  extraordinary  contortions  of  countenance,  by  way 
of  giving  him  a  hint  to  confirm  the  story  which  he  had 
fabricated,  for  the  purpose  of  enlisting  Aaron  in  their  inter 
est.  Then,  without  paying  the  slightest  attention  to  the 
extraordinary  performance,  he  said  : 

'  Such  was  not  our  purpose ;  although,  if  we  succeed, 
Wilkins  will  have  something  else  to  do  than  to  persecute 
your  mistress  with  his  attentions  ;  and  may  find  his  motions 
somewhat  less  at  his  own  command  than  they  have  hitherto 
been.' 

Aaron  looked  earnestly  at  him,  and  uttered  with  an  inter 
rogatory  jerk  of  the  head  the  single  word  '  Penitentiary  ? ' 

Mr.  Fisk  nodded. 

4  Go  on,  Sir — go  on  ! '  exclaimed  the  other,  rubbing  his 


224  THE    ATTORNEY. 

hands  gently  together,  and  giving  several  other  peculiar  in 
dications  of  intense  satisfaction.     '  I  'm  ready.' 

'  Well,  then,'  said  the  lawyer,  '  to  save  time,  confine  your 
answers  strictly  to  the  questions  which  I  shall  ask.  You 
mentioned  that  you  knew  this  Wilkins  ? ' 

'  I  do,'  replied  Aaron  laconically. 

'  What  kind  of  a  man  is  he  ? ' 

'  Tall  man,  black  hair  and  whiskers  ;  owdacious  and  ras 
cally  ;  bad  cut  to  his  eye.' 

4  Wounded  in  the  eye  ? '  inquired  Mr.  Fisk. 

Aaron  stared  at  him  as  if  he  did  not  understand. 

'  You  said  that  he  was  cut  in  the  eye,'  repeated  the  lawyer. 
I  did  n't,'  replied  Aaron,  energetically.     *  I  said  the  cut 
of  his  eye  was  bad.' 

Here  Mr.  Rawley  laughed  so  prodigiously,  that  he  was 
attacked  with  a  violent  fit  of  coughing  ;  whereupon  Bitters 
rose,  and  walked  leisurely  around  the  table,  to  see  if  any 
thing  was  required  in  his  line.  Finding  that  there  was  not, 
he  returned  to  the  rug,  where  he  remained  during  the  rest 
of  the  evening,  winking  and  blinking,  with  his  nose  so  close 
to  the  fire  that  he  could  not  keep  his  eyes  open. 

When  Mr.  Rawley  became  somewhat  composed,  Mr.  Fisk 
went  on  with  his  inquiries. 

'When  did  Wilkins  go  to  the  South  ? ' 

'  In  the  end  of  July  last.' 

1  Ah  !  that's  important.  You  're  sure  of  that? '  said  the 
lawyer,  with  some  animation. 

'  I  '11  swear  to  it,'  replied  Aaron,  resolutely. 

'  When  did  he  come  back  ? ' 

'  In  the  middle  of  September.  I  can  tell  the  very  day 
when  I  get  home.  I  made  a  note  of  it.' 

Mr.  Fisk  rubbed  his  hands  with  an  appearance  of  still 
greater  animation. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  225 

*  Are  you  sure  that  lie  did  not  return  before  that  ? ' 

*  I  am,'  replied  Aaron  ;  '  but  he  wrote  reg'lar.    His  letters 
was  n't  post-paid,  nuther.' 

'  How  do  you  know  he  wrote  them  ? ' 

Aaron,  acting  upon  the  well-known  principle  of  law  that 
no  one  is  obliged  to  criminate  himself,  remained  silent.  Mr. 
Fisk  saw  the  dilemma,  and  inquired  what  they  contained. 

'  Love,  of  the  sweetest  mixturV 

4  Could  you  get  one  of  them  ? ' 

'  It  can't  be  did,'  replied  the  other,  with  the  decided  man 
ner  of  one  who  felt  confident  of  what  he  asserted ;  '  it 's 
totally  onpossible.  They  're  under  lock  and  key,  in  the  red 
box  with  her  patent  mineral  teeth,  and  she  keeps  the  key 
herself.  Them  letters  was  of  the  urgentest  kind,'  said  he, 
with  increasing  animation  ;  '  they  was  alarming  in  their 
natur' ;  and  what 's  to  be  did,  must  be  did  soon  ;  for  it 's  not 
onpossible  that  the  widder  might  elope  with  him  if  it 's  put 
off.  She  's  getting  dreadful  desp'rate.' 

'  No  fear  of  that ! '  replied  Mr.  Fisk.  '  If  she  is  ready, 
Wilkins  is  not.  He's  married  already,  and  will  not  risk 
taking  a  second  wife  until  he  gets  rid  of  the  first.' 

The  man-servant  rose  erect,  his  hair  bristling  nearly  aa 
straight  as  himself,  as  he  exclaimed : 

'Married!     Got  a  wife  !' 

The  lawyer  nodded. 

Aaron  gave  a  rapid  flourish  of  the  right  leg,  intended  for 
a  caper,  snapped  his  fingers,  uttered  a  loud  laugh  which  ter 
minated  in  a  whistle,  and  then,  suddenly  recollecting  where 
he  was,  cut  himself  short,  and  looked  earnestly  at  the  oppo 
site  wall,  as  if  he  had  just  made  some  important  discovery 
in  that  quarter. 

Mr.  Fisk  waited  until  this  effervescence  had  subsided,  and 
then  said  :  '  I  wish  you  to  remember  that  this  conversation 


226  THE    ATTORNEY. 

is  strictly  confidential ;  and  that  whatever  you  may  learn 
from  either  Mr.  Rawley  or  myself  respecting  Wilkins  or  his 
associates  is  not  to  be  communicated  to  any  one,  and  least 
of  all  to  Mrs.  Dow.  It  is  not  our  intention  that  he  shall 
escape  us,  or  be  enabled  to  carry  out  his  designs  against  your 
mistress  or  any  other  person  ;  but  in  order  to  insure  success, 
we  must  be  secret ;  for  if  our  plans  are  discovered  before 
they  are  ripe,  they  will  be  frustrated.' 

Aaron  having  promised  the  required  secresy,  a  long  con 
versation  followed  between  him  and  the  lawyer,  in  which 
the  latter  learned  much  respecting  the  habits  and  character 
of  Wilkins ;  though  but  little  as  to  that  of  his  companion 
Higgs,  of  whom  Aaron  had  never  even  heard.  Enough, 
however,  had  been  elicited  to  satisfy  Mr.  Fisk  that  he  had 
obtained  a  clue  which  would  enable  Miss  Crawford  to  con 
tend  successfully  against  the  Will,  and  to  throw  upon  it  a 
suspicion  of  forgery  which  he  imagined  it  impossible  that 
they  could  remove. 

After  making  several  notes  and  memoranda,  he  threw 
down  his  pen  with  the  air  of  a  man  satisfied  with  his  work, 
and  told  Aaron  that  he  considered  his  information  of  much 
importance,  and  appointed  a  time  at  which  to  see  him  again. 
He  then  thanked  him  for  the  trouble  which  he  had  taken ; 
and  said  that  he  would  not' detain  him  any  longer.  Aaron 
understood  this  as  a  hint  to  go ;  so  he  took  up  his  hat,  and 
being  again  assured  that  his  mistress  should  come  to  no 
harm,  and  once  more  enjoined  to  secresy,  he  departed,  after 
lingering  for  a  moment,  in  the  hope  that  Mr.  Rawley  would 
offer  to  accompany  him.  That  gentleman,  however,  made 
no  motion  of  the  kind ;  so  he  set  out  alone.  His  way  was 
through  streets  dimly  lighted,  traversing  a  part  of  the  city 
notorious  for  crime  and  midnight  violence.  Stealing  along 
like  a  thief,  now  muttering  a  prayer,  now  an  exclamation  of 


THE    ATTORNEY.  227 

terror,  and  now  startled  at  the  sound  of  his  own  footsteps  on 
the  stone  pavement,  he  at  last  reached  the  door  of  his  home. 
Cautiously  unlocking  and  closing  it,  he  stole  up-stairs  and 
crept  into  bed,  where  his  heavy  breathing  soon  indicated  that 
he  was  at  rest. 


228  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XX 

ABOUT  nine  o'clock  one  fine  morning,  Mrs.  Dow  was  sit 
ting  complacently  in  her  little  back  parlor,  listening  to  the 
singing  of  a  tea-kettle  which  stood  in  the  grate,  and  occa 
sionally  nodding  off  into  a  quiet  slumber,  when  Aaron 
walked  deliberately  into  the  room,  with  his  shirt-sleeves 
rolled  up  to  his  elbows,  and  a  stiff  brush  under  his  arm. 

His  mood  was  a  venomous  one  ;  for  he  proceeded  to  drag 
a  mahogany  table  into  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  to  polish 
it  with  a  vehemence  which  threatened  to  bring  him  to  the 
verge  of  apoplexy. 

*  I  wish  he  was  on  that  there  table,  and  I  had  the  rubbing 
him  down  —  that's  all,'  muttered  he,  as  he  paused  in  his 
labor  to  recover  his  breath.  'And  she  a^encouragin'  him  ! ' 
said  he,  casting  over  his  shoulder  a  sullen  look  at  his  mistress. 
'  Sixty,  if  she 's  a  day ;  should  n't  wonder  if  she  was  seventy, 
or  even  ninety.  She  looks  every  hour  of  it.  If  that's  the 
small  beggar  that  rung  yesterday,  I  '11  wallop  him  ! ' 

The  concluding  part  of  his  remark  was  called  forth  by  a 
ring  at  the  door-bell,  which  interrupted  the  current  of  his 
thoughts,  though  it  did  not  restore  his  good-humor.  Strong 
in  his  amiable  resolution,  he  smoothed  his  hair  over  his  fore 
head,  laid  his  brush  on  the  table,  and  proceeded  to  see  who 
had  favored  him  with  this  sudden  summons. 

On  the  side-walk  stood  a  dwarfish  boy  in  loose  pantaloons, 
with  a  small  cap  perched  on  his  head  directly  over  his 
nose,  and  his  hands  thrust  to  the  elbows  in  the  pockets  of 
the  pantaloons  just  mentioned,  where  he  jingled  and  rattled 


THE    ATTORNEY.  229 

a  number  of  small  coins  with  great  violence,  at  the  same 
time  looking  up  the  street  with  an  air  of  profound  abstrac 
tion.  On  seeing  the  door  open,  he  walked  gently  back, 
ascended  the  steps  with  the  leisurely  air  of  a  person  who  had 
plenty  of  time  on  his  hands  and  a  great  aversion  to  violent 
exercise.  Eyeing  Aaron  from  head  to  foot,  he  said  : 

'  Hullo  !  old  feller !  do  you  live  here  ? ' 

The  man-servant  looked  at  the  stunted  marker  (for  he  it 
was)  for  more  than  a  minute ;  for  having  come  out  with  the 
determination  of  walloping  a  small  beggar,  and  judging  the 
stunted  marker  to  be  nearly  of  the  same  dimensions,  out  of 
his  trousers,  and  not  having  entirely  resigned  his  intention,  he 
was  casting  about  in  his  mind  as  to  the  most  approved  mode 
of  commencing,  when  he  was  taken  aback  by  his  abrupt 
salutation.  A  man  of  his  years  addressed  in  such  a  tone  by 
a  small  boy  in  loose  trousers !  He  had  never  met  with  such 
a  thing  in  the  whole  course  of  his  experience.  Before  he 
had  time  to  recover  from  the  shock  produced  by  this  un 
heard-of  proceeding,  the  boy,  who  was  growing  impatient, 
said : 

'  Wake  up  !  old  beet-nose  :  you  need  n't  stare  so.  I  see 
your  peepers ;  cussed  ugly  ones  they  are  too ;  but  you  've 
got  a  tongue  as  well  as  them,  ha'  n't  you  ?  Just  rattle  it ; 
'cos  I  can't  stand  here  talking  all  day  to  a  dumb  youngster, 
if  he  does  wear  dirt-colored  breeches.' 

'  It  won't  do,'  said  Aaron,  drawing  a  long  breath.  And 
accordingly  he  woke  up,  and  inquired  of  the  boy  what  he 
wanted. 

'  Is  there  a  young  woman  here  by  the  name  of  Wiolet 
Dow  1  If  there  is,  trot  her  out.  I  want  to  conwerse  with 
her.' 

'  Mrs.  Dow  does  live  here,'  replied  Aaron ;  '  but ' 

*  She  does,  does  she  ? '  interrupted  the  boy.  '  Well,  be  spry. 


230  THE    ATTORNEY. 

Young  fellers  like  you  should  stir  about  lively,  and  leave  it 
to  old  men  like  me  to  crawl.  Speak  quick  what  you  Ve  got 
to  say.' 

'But  — '  continued  Aaron,  as  soon  as  the  boy  gave  an 
opportunity  to  the  current  of  his  speech  to  ooze  on ; 
'but' 

'  But  what  ? ' 

'  She  a7  n't  a  chicken.' 

'  Oh  ho !  Past  twenty  ? '  said  the  marker,  with  an  inquir 
ing  nod. 

4  Twenty,'  muttered  Aaron  ;  *  she  and  twenty  parted  com 
pany  when  I  was  a  boy.' 

'  Thirty — forty — fifty — sixty  ? '  said  the  marker,  j  ust 
pausing  sufficiently  between  each  number  to  permit  Aaron 
to  insert  a  deliberate  assent  to  each.  '  Oh  !  she 's  one  of 
them  vimrnen  as  get  gray,  but  won't  give  up.  I  Ve  seed  'em 
afore.  They  're  quite  common,'  said  the  boy,  dusting  the 
sleeve  of  one  arm  with  the  cuff  of  the  other. 

Aaron's  face  brightened  into  a  broad  grin,  and  he  began 
to  feel  sociably  inclined  toward  his  visitor,  who  proceeded  to 
perch  himself  on  the  iron  railing,  where  he  sat  swinging  his 
feet  to  and  fro. 

'  You  are  quite  at  home,  young  man,'  said  Aaron,  leaning 
against  the  door-post,  as  if  he  too  had  no  intention  of  ter 
minating  the  conversation. 

1  Of  course  I  am,'  replied  the  boy :  *  I  'spect  to  spend 
the  morning  on  this  'ere  very  rail,  unless  I  sees  that  voman 
to-once.' 

1  You  're  a  strange  boy.     What 's  your  name  ? ' 
Charles  Draddy,'  replied  the  other,  without  hesitation, 
and    swinging    his    feet  with   great 
your'n  ? ' 

'Aaron.' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  231 

*  Oh  ho ! '  again  exclaimed  the  boy ;  *  then  you  're  the  man 
I  want ! '     He  placed  his  finger  significantly  at  the  side  of 
his  nose,  and  screwing  up  his  mouth  to  a  point,  as  if  he  had 
no  very  distant  idea  of  perpetrating  a  whistle,  he  said  :  *  I 
came  from  Mr.  Fisk,  counsellor-at-law.     Do  you  twig  ? ' 

Aaron's  eyes  brightened,  and  he  nodded  mysteriously. 

'  I  want  to  see  your  young  voman  herself.  No  other  young 
voman  won't  do.  Oh  no  !  I  guess  not.  I  say,  old  feller,' 
said  he,  sinking  his  voice,  and  inserting  two  of  his  fingers  in 
his  jacket-pocket,  and  making  visible  therefrom  the  end  of 
a  piece  of  paper  ;  '  do  you  see  that  ? ' 

Aaron  nodded. 

*  Well,  do  you  know  what  that  is  ? ' 
'No,  I  do  n't.' 

The  boy  leaned  forward,  and  said  in  a  low  voice,  '  It 's  a 
soopeeny  I  One  of  them  things  as  walks  old  vomen  up  into 
court,  whether  they  vant  to  or  not,  and  squeezes  the  truth 
right  straight  out  of  'em,  just  like  the  juice  out  of  a  lemon.' 

'  Oh  ho  ! '  said  Aaron ;  '  is  it  about  that  Wilkins  ? ' 

'  He 's  the  man,'  replied  the  other :  '  but  this,1  said  he, 
touching  the  paper,  '  is  for  your  old  voman.  Counsellor  Fisk 
and  I  vants  to  clap  the  screws  on  her.' 

Aaron  favored  the  boy  with  a  sagacious  wink,  as  much  as 
to  say  that  he  understood  his  meaning. 

'  You  see,'  continued  the  marker,  '  the  counsellor  spoke 
to  Mr.  Rawley,  a  pertikler  friend  of  mine.  You  know  Mr. 
Rawley  ? ' 

Aaron  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

'  Well,  Mr.  Rawley  knowed  a  good  many  of  the  witnesses 
what  was  wanted ;  and  he  was  to  ha'  soopeenied  'em  all ;  but 
he  had  n't  time ;  so  he  sent  me  arter  the  vun  as  roosts  in 
this  'ere  dwellin'.  Now,  my  little  feller,  how  '11  I  find  her  ? 
She  a'  n't  up  to  trap,  is  she  ? ' 


232  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Not  she  ;  not  she  !  I  '11  fix  that,'  said  Aaron  ;  and  he 
forthwith  disappeared  from  the  door,  and  proceeded  to  the 
back-parlor,  where  Mrs.  Dow  sat  with  her  eyes  still  fixed  on 
the  tea-kettle. 

'A  boy  wants  you  at  the  door,'  said  Aaron,  bluntly. 

'A  boy ! '  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dow,  instantly  closing  the  book ; 
'  did  you  say  a  boy  ? ' 

'  Yes,  I  did.' 

'Are  you  sure  it 's  only  a  boy  ? '  inquired  Mrs.  Dow, 
glancing  nervously  at  the  glass.  '  Only  a  boy  —  not  a  man  ? ' 

*  It 's  a  boy,'  replied  Aaron  ;  '  and  a  weny  dirty  one.' 

'A  boy ! '  repeated  the  relict  of  Mr.  Dow,  rising  and  color 
ing,  '  and  a  dirty  boy,  too  ?  Perhaps  he  's  a  small  one,  Aaron. 
Small  boys  do  sometimes  get  dirty.' 

'  He  is  a  small  one,'  said  Aaron,  *  but  he 's  old.  His  years 
is  got  the  start  of  his  statur'.' 

'  Where  can  he  come  from  1 '  exclaimed  the  widow.  '  I  Ve 
heard  of  boys  who  came  to  steal  —  especially  dirty  ones. 
Sometimes  they  bring  letters.  Those  are  generally  nice  boys ; 
but  nice  boys  will  get  dirty  sometimes.  I  Ve  been  so  myself 
occasionally.  But  I  '11  go  and  see  him  at  once.' 

In  pursuance  of  this  resolution,  Mrs.  Dow  sallied  out  into 
the  entry,  followed  by  Aaron. 

*  How  are  you,  young  voman  ? '  said  the  stunted  marker, 
who  had  already  found  his  way  to  the  room-door,  speaking 
without  removing  his  cap,  and  looking  her  full  in  the  eyes, 
and  at  the  same  time  nodding  sociably. 

'  Not  very  well,'  replied  Mrs.  Dow,  much  mollified  by  a 
speech  which,  though  a  little  free  in  its  tone,  insinuated  that 
she  still  maintained  the  appearance  of  juvenility  :  '  I  Ve  got 
a  bad  cold ;  quite  a  bad  cold ; '  and  Mrs.  Dow  coughed 
slightly  by  way  of  illustration.  'But  I  'm  better  now,  thank 
you  ;  much  better,  Sir.' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  233 

*  Your  'spectable  mother  must  feel  werry  glad ;  she  must 
feel  werry  relieved,  she  must,'  said  the  stunted  marker,  taking 
advantage  of  a  momentary  embarrassment  on  the  part  of 
the  lady,  to  make  a  wry  face  at  Aaron,  which  drove  that 
worthy  individual  into  a  corner  in  strong  convulsions,  to  the 
imminent  danger  of  his  suspenders. 

*  Oh  !  Sir,  my  mother,  Sir  —  la'  n't  got  no  mother,  Sir !' 
answered  Mrs.  Dow,  simpering  and  coloring. 

*  Mrs.  Wiolet  Dow  is  the  lady  in  question,'  replied  the  boy 
gravely ;  at  the  same  time  looking  inquiringly  at  Aaron,  who 
nodded  and  winked  with  great  vehemence. 

*  I  'm  Mrs.  Dow,'  said  the  relict. 

'  No  !  but  you  a'  n't  though  ?     Mrs.  Wiolet  Dow,  Esq.  ? ' 

Mrs.  Dow  bowed. 

'  Then  I  soopeeny  you  ! '  exclaimed  the  boy,  thrusting  a 
dirty  paper  into  one  of  her  hands  and  a  piece  of  money  in 
the  other ;  at  the  same  time  flourishing  another  paper  before 
her  eyes.  '  You  've  got  the  copy,  and  the  fee,  and  there  's 
the  'riginal.  You  're  in  for  it,  old  voman  !  Won't  you  be 
salted  when  they  get  you  into  court  ?  Won't  your  affections 
be  walked  into  ?  Oh  no  ;  not  a  bit ! ' 

Having  displayed  several  extraordinary  feats  of  agility  in 
commemoration  of  the  successful  discharge  of  his  task,  and 
terminated  them  by  turning  heels-over-head  in  the  entry,  a 
performance  in  which  he  was  no  way  impeded  by  the  tight 
ness  of  his  garments,  he  gave  a  loud  yell,  and  bolted  out  of 
the  house,  as  if  shot  from  a  cannon. 

'A  soopeny  ! '  shrieked  Mrs.  Dow,  holding  the  paper  at 
arm's  length  and  clutching  the  money  convulsively  in  the 
other  hand.  '  WThat  's  the  meaning  of  this,  Aaron  ?  W^hat  's 
it  about,  Aaron  ? ' 

'  Perhaps  you  'd  better  open  it  and  see,'  said  Aaron.  *  It  'a 
a  very  mysterious  business,  out  and  out,  /  think.' 


234  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Gracious  me  ! '  exclaimed  the  widow,  following  his  advice. 
'  I  'm  commanded  by  the  people  of  the  State  of  New-York 
to  go  to  court !  Me,  a  lone  widow,  to  go  to  a  court !  —  to 
be  exposed  to  the  licentious  gaze  of  a  crowded  room  of  at 
least  three  hundred  male  men — without  the  judge !  Bless 
me !  and  there  's  a  penalty  too  !  I  'in  to  pay  two  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  !  What  will  they  do  with  me,  Aaron  ?  What 
do  they  do  with  witnesses  ? '  demanded  she,  tugging  with 
nervous  violence  at  a  brown  handkerchief,  the  end  of  which 
dangled  from  the  mouth  of  a  side-pocket. 

'Axes  'em  questions,'  replied  Aaron.  '  The  young  gen'le- 
man  that  just  went  out  says  they  squeezes  'cm  just  like  they 
squeezes  the  lemons ;  but  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  that.' 

'That  I  never  will  submit  to  I '  exclaimed  the  widow,  in 
dignantly  ;  ' never!  I'll  die  before  I'll  submit  to  that! 
Oh  !  Aaron  ! '  said  she,  suddenly  relapsing  into  the  melting 
mood,  as  was  indicated  by  her  speaking  in  a  broken  voice, 
and  blowing  her  nose  with  great  force,  '  nothing  of  the  kind 
ever  happened  to  me  in  the  life-time  of  the  late  Mr.  Dow ; 
nothing !  —  and  he  had  a  great  deal  to  do  in  law.  He  fore 
closed  three  mortgages  ;  sent  two  women  to  the  penitentiary 
for  stealing  baby -linen ;  and  once  went  to  see  a  man  tried 
for  running  over  three  hens  and  a  fat  child,  and  I  was  never 
soopenied  in  all  these  —  not  once.  If  he  had  lived,  this 
never  would  have  come  to  pass.  I  am  sure  of  it.' 

*  I  rather  think  so  myself,'  replied  Aaron,  gravely. 

'  Oh  !  no ;  I  know  it  would  n't ! '  repeated  the  widow,  sob 
bing,  and  again  making  energetic  use  of  her  handkerchief. 
1  Something  will  happen  !  I  know  it !  I  feel  it !  I  shall 
faint!'  And  in  pursuance  of  this  resolution  she  put  the 
money  in  her  pocket  and  the  paper  on  the  table,  and  sunk 
into  the  open  arms  of  the  man-servant,  who  deposited  her  in 
an  arm-chair,  where  in  the  course  of  time  she  sobbed  herself 
into  a  gentle  slumber. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  235 

Just  at  the  particular  time  that  these  things  were  going  on 
in  one  part  of  the  city,  Higgs  was  walking  sentimentally 
along  in  another,  with  his  hands  under  his  coat-tails,  indulg 
ing  a  low  whistle,  pausing  thoughtfully  at  every  corner,  and 
looking  up  and  down  the  streets  as  if  he  owned  a  house  in 
each,  and  had  n't  made  up  his  mind  which  to  visit  first. 

It  was  a  fine  soft  day,  glowing  and  warm  for  the  season ; 
and  there  was  a  feeling  of  luxury  in  idling  about  —  now 
looking  into  a  shop-window,  now  pausing  to  read  the  signs 
over  the  doors,  and  now  drifting  along  with  the  crowd  — 
that  just  suited  the  taste  of  Mr.  Higgs,  and  which  he  fully 
indulged  until  he  had  wandered  off  to  a  remote  part  of  the 
city,  where  the  small  size  of  the  dwellings  and  their  mean 
and  dilapidated  condition  denoted  that  the  very  poor  had 
their  homes. 

There  is  not  much  amusement  to  be  found  in  the  haunts 
of  the  wretched  ;  and  this  idea  presenting  itself  with  much 
force  to  the  mind  of  Mr.  Higgs,  he  had  reclined  his  person 
against  a  lamp-post  in  front  of  a  mean-looking  house,  to 
make  up  his  mind  whither  to  direct  his  steps,  when  his  at 
tention  was  attracted  to  some  one  speaking  in  the  house. 

'  Let  it  be  a  mahogany  one,'  said  a  plaintive  voice,  which 
seemed  to  come  from  a  room  on  the  ground-floor.  '  The 
best  is  not  too  good  for  him ; '  a  low,  half-suppressed  sob 
followed  ;  '  and  tell  him,'  continued  the  same  voice,  '  that  he 
shall  be  paid  soon,  if  I  work  my  fingers  to  the  bone.'  All 
was  quiet  for  a  moment,  and  then  Higgs  heard,  in  a  stifled 
voice  :  '  God  bless  you,  my  boy  !  —  go  ! '  and  a  thin,  sickly- 
looking  lad  came  out  of  the  house  and  ran  off  at  the  top  of 
his  speed. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  returned,  panting  for  breath,  and 
went  into  the  room. 

'  What  do  you  think,  mother  ? '  said  he,  earnestly ;  '  he 
would  n't  let  me  have  it ! ' 


236  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Did  you  tell  him  all  ? '  said  the  same  sad  voice  which 
Higgs  had  heard  before ;  l  what  has  happened,  and  how  poor 
we  were  ? ' 

*  Yes,  I  did  ;  and  he  said  he  would  n't ;  there  was  no  use 
in  talking  about  it ;  that  if  I  wanted  a  coffin  I  might  go  to 
the  poor-house  for  one  ;  or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  bury  him 
without  one.  He  said  that?  continued  the  boy,  sinking  his 
voice  so  low  that  Higgs  could  scarcely  hear  him,  and  speak 
ing  as  if  the  very  idea  startled  him. 

'  Oh !  no,  no !  he  could  not  have  meant  that!"1  replied  the 
mother.  *  Bury  my  poor  dead  little  boy  in  that  way  ! '  —  and 
she  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

Higgs's  curiosity  was  excited  by  what  he  heard  ;  and  he 
rose  and  peeped  cautiously  into  the  room.  It  was  very  small, 
and  every  thing  in  it  was  wretched  and  poor.  Near  the 
window  was  a  woman,  yet  young,  but  with  whom  sorrow 
and  suffering  had  done  the  work  of  years ;  and  at  her  side, 
with  his  hand  clasped  in  hers,  stood  the  boy  who  had  just 
returned.  They  were  both  bending  over  a  cot  on  which  lay 
the  body  of  a  child  of  about  two  years  of  age.  They  were 
too  poor  to  have  done  much  for  him,  and  the  same  little 
frock  which  he  had  worn  when  alive  was  his  shroud  now 
that  he  was  dead.  His  light  hair  was  parted  over  his  fore 
head.  There  was  a  slight  color  in  his  cheek,  and  a  smile 
around  his  small  mouth,  as  if  some  angel  had  stolen  away 
the  spirit  in  an  hour  of  happiness.  All  was  like  life ;  but 
the  dark,  sad  eye  of  the  mother,  and  the  sorrowful  look  of 
the  boy  at  her  side,  told  their  tale.  The  little  fellow  was 
resting  in  the  long  sleep  which  has  no  end  ;  and  his  childish 
voice  would  never  again  gladden  his  mother's  heart. 

There  are  spots  of  gold  even  in  the  darkest  character ;  and 
that  bold,  bad  man,  who  shrank  not  from  vice  and  crime, 
had  strange  feelings  and  recollections  as  he  looked  upon  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  23*7 

face  of  that  sinless  child.  Dreams  of  by-gone  days,  and 
scenes  and  faces  which  he  had  long  forgotten,  swept  through 
his  mind,  softening  his  spirit.  He  wondered  if  he  could  ever 
have  been  young  and  innocent  like  him.  He  looked  at  the 
weeping  mother,  and  it  brought  back  to  him  a  faintly-remem 
bered  face  which  had  once  hovered  around  him  in  dreams  ; 
but  so  long  since  that  he  could  scarcely  remember  it ;  and 
then  he  thought  of  those  who  had  played  with  him  when 
they  were  boys  together.  Some  had  died  then  ;  some  had 
grown  up  into  youth,  and  then  they  too  had  died  ;  some  had 
gone  he  knew  not  whither  ;  others  had  risen  to  wealth  and 
respectability ;  and  some  had  become  stern,  hardened  men 
like  himself. 

Higgs  drew  back  from  the  window,  thrust  his  hand  in  his 
pocket,  and  walked  directly  into  the  house,  and  into  the 
room  where  the  child  lay. 

' 'There  /'  said  he,  placing  a  bill  for  a  considerable  amount 
on  the  table.  '  Take  that.  Bury  the  boy  as  you  want  to. 
Think  of  me  sometimes  ;  and  if  you  find  it  convenient,  when 
you  are  saying  your  prayers,  put  in  a  good  word  for  me  :  I 
need  it.'  Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  turned  and 
left  the  house. 

He  had  spent  much  of  the  day  in  strolling  about,  and  a 
clock  sounded  the  hour  of  three  in  the  afternoon.  No  sooner 
did  he  hear  it  than  he  changed  his  course  and  struck  across 
to  the  eastern  part  of  the  city.  His  pace  was  now  steady 
and  rapid,  like  that  of  one  who  had  a  point  of  destination 
which  he  wished  to  reach  without  loss  of  time.  In  twenty 
minutes  he  stopped  in  front  of  a  house  more  than  a  mile 
from  where  he  set  out.  It  was  a  small  tavern  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  town.  A  sign  had  once  hung  over  the  door ; 
but  that  had  long  since  fallen  to  the  ground,  and  been  left 
there  to  decay  under  the  influence  of  time  and  storm. 


238  THE    ATTORNEY. 

Higgs,  however,  required  no  such  indication  to  inform  him 
where  he  was.  He  went  through  the  entry  with  the  air  of 
a  man  perfectly  at  home ;  opened  an  inner  door,  and  en 
tered  what  appeared  to  be  a  kind  of  sitting-room  for  visitors. 
It  was  dark  and  gloomy,  and  redolent  of  gin  and  stale  cigars. 
The  walls  were  discolored  and  stained,  and  from  a  pale  yel 
low  had  gradually  tanned  into  a  deep  snuff-color.  Altogether, 
it  was  as  cheerless  and  uncomfortable  as  might  have  been 
expected  from  the  out-of-the-way  part  of  the  city  and  the 
wretched  neighborhood  in  which  the  tavern  stood.  One  or 
two  old  prints,  blackened  by  smoke  and  time,  hung  against 
the  wall ;  and  a  dirty  sand-box  filled  with  stumps  of  cigars 
occupied  the  middle  of  the  room,  near  a  wooden  table  with 
a  broken  leg.  A  decrepit  tongs  and  a  shovel  without  a 
handle  were  lying  together  in  the  chimney-place,  in  the  very 
centre  of  which  sat  a  man  in  a  rough  great-coat,  with  his 
head  bent  forward,  and  his  hands  hanging  listlessly  over  his 
knees. 

Mr.  Higgs  was  at  no  loss  to  recognize  Wilkins  in  this  per 
son.  In  truth,  it  would  seem  that  he  expected  to  find  him ; 
for,  scarcely  favoring  him  with  a  glance,  he  walked  up,  and 
slapped  him  between  the  shoulders  with  a  degree  of  friendly 
violence  which  seemed  to  strike  the  person  thus  favored  as 
quite  unnecessary  ;  for  he  requested  him,  when  next  he  ad 
dressed  him,  either  to  keep  his  hands  off",  or  to  lay  them  on 
more  gently. 

'  Why,  what  ails  you  ? '  demanded  Higgs,  abruptly  ;  '  your 
flesh  a'  n't  eggs,  is  it  ?  It  won't  mash  at  a  touch,  will 
it?' 

1  What  the  devil  brings  you  here  ?  What  do  you  want  ? ' 
demanded  Wilkins,  in  a  surly  tone. 

Without  satisfying  either  of  these  inquiries,  Higgs  went 
to  the  table,  and  looked  successively  into  two  pitchers  which 


THE    ATTORNEY.  239 

stood  on  it ;  and  having  applied  his  nose  to  each,  he  took 
up  the  one-legged  tongs  and  hammered  lustily  on  the  table. 

'  Halloa !  what 's  the  muss  ? '  bellowed  a  voice  from  a 
small  window,  opening  into  an  inner  room  ;  '  what  you  bang 
ing  that  there  table  for  ?  Don't  you  see  it 's  weak  in  the 
j'ints  ?  Peg  away  at  the  floor,  if  you  want  to  knock  some 
thing  ;  but  when  you  come  into  a  gen'leman's  house,  do  n't 
be  a  smashin'  his  furniter  arter  that  fashion.' 

In  pursuance  of  this  hint,  Higgs  shifted  his  blows  from 
the  table  to  the  floor,  and  knocked  with  a  force  that  soon 
brought  a  slip-shod  girl,  without  stockings,  and  with  remark 
ably  red  heels,  to  know  what  he  wanted. 

'  Fill  them  ! '  said  Higgs,  pointing  to  the  pitchers.  The 
girl  took  them  up,  eyed  the  inside  very  scrutinizingly,  and 
disappearing,  in  a  few  minutes  returned,  and  placed  them 
foaming  on  the  table.  Higgs,  pushing  one  of  them  toward 
Wilkins,  buried  his  face  in  the  other,  then,  replacing  the 
pitcher  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction,  wiped  his  mouth  on  the 
back  of  his  hand. 

Wilkins  had  sat  watching  him  in  silence  until  his  thirst 
was  satisfied,  and  then  asked,  in  no  very  placable  tone : 

'What  brings  you  here?  —  what  do  you  want?  Blast 
me  !  if  I  don't  begin  to  suspect  you.  You  never  come  near 
me  now-a-days  unless  there 's  something  to  be  got  out 
of  me.' 

Higgs  looked  at  him  as  if  making  up  his  mind  what 
answer  to  make,  and  then  said  bluntly  :  *  Of  course  I  want 
something.  You  do  n't  think  I  'd  come  to  this  out-of-the- 
way,  ungenteel  little  dram-hole,  when  there 's  respectable 
places  in  the  city,  on  purpose  to  find  you,  unless  I  wanted 
something,  do  you  ?  If  you  do,  you  do  n't  know  me  as  well 
as  I  thought  you  did.' 

4  Well,  then,  let 's  know  what  it  is,'  said  Wilkins  ;  *  and 


240  THE    ATTORNEY. 

do  n't  sit  there,  staring  and  gaping  as  if  you  had  something 
in  your  mind  you  was  afraid  to  tell.  You  have  n't  murdered 
any  one,  have  you  ? ' 

'  Pish  !  you  know  I  have  n't.  What  the  devil  ails  you, 
man  ? ' 

'  No  matter  what,'  replied  Wilkins,  not  in  the  least  molli 
fied  by  the  interest  in  his  welfare  denoted  by  the  question ; 
and  turning  his  back  on  the  questioner,  and  stirring  the  fire. 

Higgs,  before  going  into  the  communication  which  he  had 
on  hand,  got  up  and  shut  the  door.  He  then  went  to  the 
small  window  opening  into  the  other  room  and  shut  that, 
having  first  looked  through  it  and  satisfied  himself  that  the 
apartment  beyond  was  empty.  Returning  and  drawing  a 
chair  so  close  to  Wilkins  that  even  a  whisper  could  be  heard, 
he  said  :  *  I  've  come  here  to  talk  with  you  about  that  law 
yer,  Bolton  ;  and  to  let  you  into  a  small  project  I  have  on 
foot,  before  proposing  it  to  him.  I  knew  you  were  to  be 
here  at  this  hour.' 

'  Well,  what  about  that  man  ? ' 

'  You  know  that  you  and  I  and  the  lawyer  are  all  in  the 
same  boat.' 

Wilkins  looked  at  him  with  a  troubled  glance,  but  said 
nothing. 

'And  you  know  he  's  a  man  that  would  n't  think  twice 
before  he  'd  put  a  halter  round  our  necks,  if  we  stood  in  his 
way.' 

*  Do  n't  I  know  him  ? '  said  Wilkins,  in  a  low,  fierce  voice : 
4  do  n't  I  know  every  corner  of  his  black  heart  ?  I  ought  to. 
Well,  go  on.' 

'  If  we  were  in  his  grasp,'  continued  Higgs,  in  the  same 
subdued  manner,  *  and  he  could  squeeze  a  few  thousands  out 
of  us,  and  we  could  n't  help  ourselves,  do  you  think  he  'd 
do  it  ? ' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  241 

There  was  something  almost  fiendish  in  the  wild  mocking 
laugh  that  preceded  the  response  of  Wilkins,  as  he  said  : 

lDo  it !  He  'd  wring  out  the  last  drop  of  your  heart's 
blood  for  that.  Ay,  he  'd  d  —  n  you  in  this  world  and  the 
next  for  that ! ' 

1  Then/  replied  Higgs,  in  a  stern,  determined  voice,  ' 1  '11 
show  him  that  two  can  play  at  that  game.  This  is  what  I 
mean.  He  has  showed  his  hand  to  the  girl  —  Miss  Craw 
ford  ;  he  has  showed  the  Will ;  he  has  let  out  that  we  are 
the  witnesses  to  it.  He  's  in  for  it ;  there  's  no  back-out  for 
him.  He  admitted  as  much  to  me.  He  can't  go  on  with 
out  us  !  But  as  yet  we  a'  n't  committed  ;  for  we  have  only 
stuck  our  names  to  the  paper;  we  have  proved  nothing, 
sworn  to  nothing,  and  might  be  seized  with  a  sudden  loss  of 
memory,  and  know  nothing  about  it ;  or  we  might  have 
done  so  only  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  a  fraud,  by 
blowing  on  him  when  we  were  called  on  as  witnesses.' 

*  Well,'  said  Wilkins,  <  what 's  your  drift  ? ' 

'  Drift !  It 's  plain  enough,'  replied  Higgs  ;  '  I  've  got  a 

d d  bad  memory ;  and  I  do  n't  believe  any  thing  less 

than  twenty  thousand  dollars  will  restore  it,  in  this  'ere 
identical  case.  And  I  'd  advise  you  to  have  as  bad  a  one 
too.' 

'  But  will  he  pay  it  ? '  demanded  Wilkins,  earnestly. 

*  Pshaw !  what  can  he  do  ?     He  can't  stop.     If  he  does, 

he  's  d d.     If  we  do  n't  help  him,  he  's  d d.     He 

must  do  it !     Even  then:  he  will  have  a  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  dollars  for  his  share.     He  says  the  old  man  left 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars.' 

'  My  pay  is  n't  money,'  replied  Wilkins,  relapsing  into  his 
moody  humor.  '  He  's  to  give  me  service  for  service.' 

'Make  him  do  that  too,'  replied  Higgs.  'If  he  won't 
come  in  to  my  proposition,  I  '11  pay  him  back  the  five  hun- 
11 


242  THE    ATTORNEY. 

dred  dollars  I  Ve  got,  and  withdraw  from  the  service.  This 
being  flush  is  n't  such  great  things,  after  all.  It 's  agreeable 
enough  at  first ;  but  in  the  long  run,  it  is  n't  half  so  exciting 
as  going  on  tick,  and  knowing  there 's  always  some  one  to 
take  an  interest  in  your  health.  Curse  me,  how  bad  Mr. 
Quagley  felt  when  I  was  near  dying  once,  and  owed  him  a 
small  bill  of  forty  dollars !  His  feelings  was  quite  touched.' 

Wilkins  folded  his  arms  and  sat  for  some  time  in  silent 
abstraction,  giving  no  other  indication  of  his  being  awake 
than  by  slightly  drumming  his  foot  on  the  floor.  At  last  he 
said : 

'  There 's  a  good  deal  in  what  you  say ;  yet  I  Ve  sworn 
not  to  blow  on  him  ;  but  I  have  not  sworn  to  stand  by  him.' 
Turning  to  the  pitcher,  he  took  a  deep  draught  of  the  ale, 
which  had  hitherto  stood  neglected  at  his  elbow,  and  said, 
'  You  shall  know  what  I  intend  to  do,  before  long.' 

Higgs  bowed  in  token  of  satisfaction ;  and  after  a  pause 
of  some  duration,  crossed  his  legs,  leaned  back  in  the  chair, 
and  asked : 

'  What  have  you  done  about  that  divorce  ?  I  wish  you'd 
do  something  soon.' 

A  change,  as  rapid  as  lightning,  came  over  the  face  of 
Wilkins,  as  he  replied  : 

'  What 's  it  to  you  what  I  do,  or  when  I  do  it  ?  —  or  if  I 
take  six  months  or  a  year  ?  —  or  if  I  never  do  it  ?  What 's 
it  to  you,  I  say  ? '  And  he  struck  his  clenched  fist,  which 
he  had  shaken  at  Higgs  during  these  vehement  questions, 
on  the  table. 

'  What 's  it  to  me  ?  '  inquired  Higgs,  with  some  surprise  ; 
4  that 's  a  good  one  !  Why,  d  —  n  it !  I  told  you  I  intended 
to  marry  her  myself.' 

'By  G-d!  you  shall  die  first ! '  exclaimed  Wilkins,  start 
ing  up.  i  You  mus'  n't  come  interfering  between  me  and 


THE    ATTORNEY.  243 

my  plans.  That  girl  I  cast  adrift,  because  I  intend  to  pay 
off  the  ill  usage  I  've  had  at  her  hands.  She  shall  live  and 
die  alone  ;  wretched,  in  the  very  kennel ;  and  let  me  see 
you  raise  a  finger  to  help  her  !  Marry  her  !  No  one  shall ! 
Sooner  than  that,  I  'd  keep  her  in  my  own  grasp  ;  and  if  I 
broke  my  own  heart  in  doing  so,  I  'd  break  hers  too.' 

'  It  was  agreed  between  us,'  replied  Higgs,  earnestly, '  that 
I  was  to  prove  whatever  you  wanted ;  you  were  to  throw 
her  off,  and  I  was  to  take  her.  Honor !  George,  honor ! 
When  a  gentleman  loses  his  honor,  he  loses  what 's  precious ; ' 
and  Mr.  Higgs  shook  his  head,  as  if  he  experienced  feelings 
of  the  most  poignant  regret  at  the  idea  of  such  a  dereliction 
on  the  part  of  his  friend. 

'  I  agreed  to  nothing,'  replied  Wilkins,  in  the  same  savage 
tone  ;  '  and  if  you  attempt  to  cross  rne,  it  will  be  the  bitterest 
thing  you  ever  did.' 

Iliggs's  policy  at  present  was  not  to  exasperate  Wilkins, 
lest  he  might,  in  a  fit  of  stubbornness,  come  to  the  resolution 
of  not  obtaining  the  divorce.  He  therefore  merely  said : 

*  We  won't  quarrel  about  it.  If  I  was  mistaken,  I  was  — 
and  there  's  an  end  of  it.  I  Ve  not  lived  to  rny  age  to  fight 
about  a  petticoat.  I  must  be  off  now.  You  know  we  Ve 
got  to  go  to  the  lawyer's  to-night.' 

Wilkins  nodded  sullenly. 

'  Eight  o'clock  is  the  hour,'  said  Higgs  ;  and  without  fur 
ther  remark  he  rose  and  went  out. 


244  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

IN  the  same  office  where  he  had  hatched  so  much  harm, 
the  attorney  sat  with  an  expression  of  countenance  which 
bespoke  any  thing  but  mental  tranquillity.  On  the  table  near 
him  lay  a  letter  written  in  the  peculiar  penmanship  and 
worded  with  the  elegance  so  characteristic  of  Mr.  Higgs,  in 
which,  after  informing  the  attorney  that  he  had  strong  mis 
givings  that  they  were  performing  the  rather  incongruous  acts 
of  getting  themselves  in  a  box  and  into  a  pickle,  he  appointed 
that  evening  to  see  him,  and  to  discuss  their  plans.  On  this 
letter  the  attorney  from  time  to  time  bent  his  eyes,  occasionally 
removing  them  to  gaze  abstractedly  around  the  room.  His 
thin  lips  moved  and  twitched  nervously,  and  at  times  he  un 
folded  his  arms,  and  clasping  his  long  thin  fingers  about  his 
knees,  sat  there  motionless,  looking  wistfully  in  the  smoking 
embers,  and  dreaming  over  plans  which  were  corroding  his 
heart,  and  which,  even  if  successful,  were  dearly  bought. 
Once,  as  a  voice  reached  his  ear  from  the  street,  he  straight 
ened  himself  up  and  listened ;  but  it  sank  suddenly  into 
silence,  and  he  relapsed  into  his  old  attitude.  One  might 
have  supposed  him  dead  —  for  his  features  were  pinched  and 
pale,  and  had  a  rigid,  unearthly  look  —  but  for  the  brilliancy 
of  those  black,  glittering  eyes,  and  the  low  muttering  which 
occasionally  escaped  him. 

An  hour  or  more  had  passed  in  this  manner,  when  sud 
denly  a  step  was  heard  in  the  passage  below  ;  then  one  or 
two  heavy,  jarring  treads,  as  if  a  person  had  stumbled  in 
ascending  the  stairs  in  the  dark.  Bolton  shook  off  his  ab- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  245 

straction,  turned  to  the  table,  snuffed  the  candles,  thrust  the 
note  which  was  lying  there  in  his  pocket,  drew  one  or  two 
papers  to  him,  and  commenced  writing.  Tn  the  meantime 
the  stumbling  continued,  until  the  person  had  surmounted 
the  stairs,  and  was  heard  coming  through  the  upper  entry. 
Bolton  did  not  raise  his  eyes  as  he  entered ;  but  he  knew, 
without  doing  so,  that  the  tall,  gaunt  man  who  strode  in  was 
Wilkins.  His  visitor  threw  his  hat  on  a  chair,  and  shaking 
his  head  to  free  his  face  from  the  long  elf-locks  which  hung 
over  it,  drew  a  chair  to  the  fire,  and  seated  himself  opposite 
the  attorney,  with  the  air  of  one  who  had  every  inclination, 
and  only  wanted  an  excuse,  to  give  vent  to  a  long-hoarded 
and  abundant  stock  of  ill-humor. 

Bolton  wrote  on,  pretending  not  to  notice  him,  until  he 
could  make  up  his  mind  how  to  meet  him.  Wilkins,  how 
ever,  soon  solved  this  difficulty,  by  demanding  abruptly: 

'  What. have  you  done  in  that  business  of  mine  ? ' 

The  attorney  raised  his  head.  'Ah  !  Wilkins  !  it 's  you  1 
So  you  Ve  come  ?  I  wanted  you.' 

'  What  have  you  done  in  that  business  of  mine  ? '  repeated 
his  visitor,  taking  no  notice  of  the  extended  hand  of  the 
lawyer,  which  accompanied  the  remark. 

*  You  mean  that  girl  ?  —  your  wife  ?  —  the  drab  ? ' 

'  Come,  none  of  that ! '  replied  Wilkins,  with  an  impatient 
gesture.  '  I  did  n't  come  here  to  hear  you  call  names. 
She  's  no  drab,  and  you  know  it.  All  you  've  got  to  do  is 
to  look  to  your  work,  and  keep  your  tongue  quiet.  What 
have  you  done  ?  I  ask  again.' 

'As  yet,  nothing.' 

'  Then,'  replied  Wilkins,  '  do  nothing.  Our  compact  is  at 
an  end.' 

Bolton  laid  down  his  pen  ;  his  face  became  a  shade  paler, 
and  his  voice  trembled  slightly,  as  he  asked : 


246  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  What  now,  Wilkins  ?     What  do  you  mean  ? ' 

*  Do  n't  I  speak  plain  ?'  said  Wilkins.  '  You  want  some 
thing  more,  do  you  ?  You  shall  have  it ;  ay,  to  your  heart's 
content.' 

He  rose,  took  his  chair  by  the  back,  stamped  it  heavily 
on  the  floor  within  two  feet  of  the  attorney,  and  sat  down. 
'  This  is  what  I  mean.  A  certain  lawyer  was  to  get  George 
Wilkins  divorced  from  his  wife  ;  and  on  condition  of  his 
doing  so,  George  Wilkins  was  to  prove  a  certain  signature 
to  a  certain  paper.  Perhaps  you  understand  that  ? ' 

Bolton  glanced  nervously  about  the  room ;  for  Wilkins 
spoke  in  a  loud  and  excited  key.  '  Well,'  said  he,  '  well  ? ' 

'  Well ! '  echoed  Wilkins  with  a  bitter  laugh  ;  '  well /  A 
month  went  by.  The  lawyer  was  pushing  his  own  business 
on  finely ;  but  when  Wilkins  came  to  see  what  had  been 
done  in  his,  the  answer  was,  *  Nothing  yet ! ' ' 

There  was  something  so  unusual  in  the  manner  of  his 
visitor,  something  so  reckless  and  mocking,  and  withal  so 
savage,  that  the  attorney  fairly  quailed.  '  Now,  what  I  Ve 
got  to  say  is  this,'  continued  Wilkins  :  '  I  want  nothing  fur 
ther  at  your  hands.  I  want  no  divorce  ;  and  you — you,  who 
think  of  none  but  yourself ;  who  blight  and  curse  and  poison 
all  who  come  in  your  path ;  you,  d  —  n  you !  you  may 
prove  your  Will  as  you  can  !  May  hell  seize  me  if  I  move 
a  finger,  stir  a  step,  or  utter  a  word  to  save  you  from  the 
gallows  !  Now  you  understand  me  ! ' 

'  I  do  ! '  replied  Bolton,  whose  hesitation  vanished  at  the 
more  imminent  danger  which  threatened  from  this  new  reso 
lution  of  his  confederate.  '  I  do  understand  you,'  repeated 
he,  in  that  low,  clear,  calm  tone,  so  often  the  voice  of  strong, 
concentrated  purpose  or  of  bitter  wrath.  'No  one  could 
have  spoken  more  plainly.  Now  hear  me.  You  made  a  pro 
mise  and  confirmed  it  by  an  oath,  that  if  I  performed  a  cer- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  247 

tain  service  for  you,  you  would  do  the  same  for  me.  Relying 
on  your  good  faith,  I  have  taken  steps  which  have  cornpro 
mised  my  safety  beyond  recall.  I  cannot  retrace  them.  I 
cannot  undo  what  is  now  done.  There  is  no  escape  for  me, 
except  in  going  on.  That  Will  is  already  in  the  hands  of 
the  Surrogate.  Your  name  is  to  it  as  a  witness  ;  and  prove 
it  you  shall !  Clench  your  fist  if  you  will,'  said  he,  grating 
his  teeth,  and  shaking  his  thin  finger  at  him  ;  *  I  fear  you 
not.  I  have  you  in  my  gripe.  I  can  tie  you  neck  and  heels, 
and  place  you  where  you  '11  rot.  You  're  mine,  and  prove 
that  Will  you  shall.  There  are  but  three  cases  in  which  the 
law  will  dispense  with  your  testimony,  and  allow  your  sig 
nature  to  be  proved  by  another  person.' 

'  What  are  they  ? '  asked  Wilkins,  doggedly 
'  You  must  be  insane,  which  you  are  not ;  or  you  must 
leave  the  State.' 

*  Suppose  I  won't  ? ' 

'Then]  said  Bolton,  leaning  forward,  and  speaking  slowly, 
'  to  get  along  without  your  personal  testimony,  the  law  says 
you  must  be  DEAD  ! ' 

Wilkins  sat  eyeing  him  with  fixed  stare,  evincing  neither 
surprise  nor  fear  ;  but  seeming  rather  in  deep  and  perplexed 
thought.  At  last  he  said  : 

'And  so,  Bolton,  you  would  blow  on  an  old  comrade,  who 
had  stuck  to  you  through  thick  and  thin,  because  you  had 
run  him  too  hard  once  ? ' 

'  I  would,  if  he  gave  out  at  last,'  replied  the  lawyer. 

*  And  you  would  forget  how  often  he  had  served  you  when 
none  else  would ;  and  you  would  have  him  laid  by  the  heels, 
and  locked  up,  to  rot  and  fester,  and  beat  himself  against  his 
prison-walls,  and  to  lie  there  and  rave,  and  curse  the  hour 
that  he  came  into  the  world  ?  —  would  you  ? ' 

'  I  would  ! ' 


248  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  Or  if  you  did  n't,  you  'd  send  him  to  kingdom-come,  ofl- 
hand?' 

*  The  law  says  that  the  witness  must  be  dead  ! '  repeated 
Bolton,  sternly. 

'But  suppose  the  man  was  me,  Bolton  —  your  old,  tried 
friend  ? '  said  Wilkins  earnestly,  drawing  his  chair  closer  to 
the  table,  and  leaning  over  it,  and  speaking  rapidly  ;  *  me, 
who  know  so  much  of  your  dark  doings?  —  who  never 
turned  my  back  on  you  till  now  ? ' 

*  The  law  makes  no  exception  for  friendship,'  replied  the 
lawyer. 

Wilkins  drew  back.  All  trace  of  passion  and  excitement 
disappeared  from  his  face.  His  features  became  cold,  pas 
sionless,  stone-like ;  and  he  spoke  like  one  whose  thoughts 
were  far  away,  as  he  said  : 

'  I  said  blood  would'  come  of  it,  some  day  ;  yes,  I  said  it, 
or  I  dreamed  it ;  but  it 's  true  ! ' 

He  thrust  his  hand  half  unconsciously  in  the  breast  of  his 
coat,  and  then  drew  it  out.  *  Well,  well ! '  said  he,  '  I  '11 
wait  —  I '11  wait.  It  may  not  come  to  it  yet;  but  it  will 
some  day.' 

He  leaned  his -cheek  on  his  hand,  and  gazed  steadfastly  in 
the  fire,  which  flickered  and  smouldered  in  the  grate,  giving 
a  wild,  uncertain  expression  to  his  harsh  features.  At  times 
he  raised  his  head  and  looked  with  a  troubled,  irresolute  eye 
at  the  lawyer,  and  his  lips  moved  as  if  he  were  speaking, 
but  no  sound  came  from  them.  How  long  a  time  might 
have  elapsed  in  silence  is  uncertain  ;  for  before  it  was  broken, 
a  quick  step  was  heard  coming  up  the  stairs  and  through  the 
entry.  Then  there  was  a  sudden  knock  at  the  door,  and 
before  it  could  be  answered,  the  door  was  flung  open,  and 
Mr.  Higgs  entered  the  room. 

The  excited  looks  of  the  two  who  already  occupied  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  249 

office  did  not  escape  the  quick  eye  of  the  new-comer.  He 
half  suspected  that  a  rupture  had  taken  place  between  them, 
and  by  way  of  inducing  an  explanation,  said : 

'  You  look  amiable,  both  of  you.     What 's  in  the  wind  ? ' 

Wilkins  turned  his  back  upon  him,  and  made  no  answer. 

Higgs  cast  an  inquiring  eye  upon  Bolton. 

'  He  is  faint-hearted,  and  would  give  out,'  said  he,  with  a 
slight  sneer,  and  pointing  to  Wilkins. 

Wilkins  merely  rolled  his  eyes  up  at  him,  but  took  no 
further  notice  of  him. 

'  Come,  George,'  said  Higgs,  going  up  to  his  friend,  and 
placing  his  hand  familiarly  on  his  shoulder:  'What's  the 
matter  ?  Out  with  it,  man.' 

'Pshaw  !  —  you  know.' 

'  Ah !  ah  !  I  understand,'  replied  Mr.  Higgs,  into  whose 
mind  a  ray  of  the  truth  flashed.  Then,  turning  to  the  law 
yer,  he  said:  'It's  a  trifle  —  quite  insignificant;  merely 
this  :  Mr.  Wilkins  and  myself,  on  having  a  small  talk  re 
specting  this  'ere  business,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  risk  and  not  a  great  deal  of  pay  ;  which 
you  know  is  quite  as  disproportioned  as  a  very  large  dog 
with  a  very  small  tail,  or  any  other  figure  that  may  suit  the 
case.' 

Mr.  Higgs  paused  to  observe  the  effect  of  his  remark,  and 
of  his  very  appropriate  simile.  Bolton  merely  bowed. 

'And  we  thought,'  continued  he,  '  that  as  the  old  gentle 
man  had  left  a  cool  two  hundred  thousand,  you  might  fork 
over  to  us  a  cool  twenty  thousand  a-piece :  quite  a  trifle, 
considering  the  risk,  and  the  fight  that  the  young  woman  is 
determined  to  make,  which  you  know  was  altogether  un 
looked-for,  and  not  at  all  mentioned  in  the  contract.' 

'And  suppose  I  refuse  ? '  asked  Bolton,  impatiently. 


250  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Then  we  abjure  the  proceeding,  root  and  branch.  I  re- 
fork  the  five  hundred  which  the  old  gentleman  left  me,  a 
very  little  diminished,  considering  the  respectability  of  my 
appearance  for  the  last  week  or  two  ;  and  we  wash  our  hands 
of  the  whole  business,  and  gently  retire,  wishing  you  all 
success  in  your  undertaking.' 

'And  this  is  what  you  will  do  V 

1  Most  positively,  and  decidedly,  and  so  forth,'  replied  Mr. 
Higgs,  taking  a  seat,  and  crossing  his  legs. 

'  Well,'  said  the  attorney,  after  a  long  pause,  '  will  twenty 
thousand  a-piece  clear  me  of  all  claims  from  both  of  you  ?  — 
and  will  you  never  make  others  ?  —  and  you  will  carry  this 
matter  through  in  spite  of  all  obstacles  ? ' 

Both  Wilkins  and  Higgs  assented. 

*  I  see  no  alternative.     It 's  yours.     Do  you  want  a  writ 
ten  promise  to  that  effect  ? ' 

*  No,  thank  you ;  I  prefer  not,'  said  Mr.  Higgs,  quietly. 
'  I  '11  find  a  way  of  enforcing  the  promise,  if  you  should 
happen  to  forget  it.' 

Bolton  attempted  to  laugh,  but  turned  away,  biting  his 
lip  with  vexation ;  for  he  felt  that  he  was  in  the  hands  of 
one  at  least  on  whom  he  had  no  hold,  and  who  neither 
feared  him  nor  would  abate  one  jot  of  his  power  over  him, 
while  there  was  an  end  of  his  own  to  be  gained. 

'  Well,'  said  Mr.  Higgs,  '  now  that  that 's  settled  to  our 
mutual  satisfaction,  let's  know  what's  the  most  ticklish  part 
of  this  business  ?  What 's  the  spot  as  wo  n't  bear  handling  ? 
That 's  what  we  were  to  consult  about.' 

Bolton  seated  himself,  and  opening  a  small  drawer  in  the 
table,  took  out  a  memorandum,  and  after  running  his  eyo 
over  it,  said : 

'  That  witness  to  the  marriage.     If  he  were  out  of  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  251 

way,  I  'd  feel  safe.  I  know  of  no  other  obstacle.  He 's  hero 
day  after  day,  on  some  pretext  or  other.  I  do  n't  know  what 
to  make  of  it.  If  we  could  get  him  out  of  the  State ' 

'  Or  out  of  the  world  ? '  suggested  Iliggs. 

Bolton  looked  steadily  at  him,  but  said  not  a  word. 

*  Hist ! '  exclaimed  he,  at  length.     *  Some  one  is  coming. 
I  '11  shut  this  door,  and  meet  him  in  the  other  room.     Stay 
here  quietly,  till  I  send  him  off.'     As  he  spoke,  he  went  out, 
shutting  the  door,  and  was  heard  speaking  to  a  person  in  the 
outer  room.     In  a  few  moments  he  returned,  with  a  face  as 
pale  as  ashes.     He  shut  the  door  after  him  tight,  pushing  it 
to  again  and  again.     Then  he  went  up  to  Higgs  and  whis 
pered  : 

'  It 's  the  very  man  !  —  the  old  fellow  !  —  the  witness  to 
that  marriage  !  the  only  witness  ! ' 

His  black  eyes  dilated  until  they  seemed  on  fire,  his  lips 
quivered,  and  he  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 

'  Well  ? '  said  Higgs,  looking  up  in  his  face. 

*  He  's  the  only  witness  to  her  legitimacy]  said  the  lawyer , 
and  he  stopped  again.     *  He  's  in  the  other  room  — ALONE.' 

'  Well,'  said  Higgs,  still  looking  at  him  ;  *  what  of  it  ? 
You  won't  consent  to  —  you  know  what  ?  You  told  me 
so  yourself.' 

Bolton,  without  heeding  this  remark,  said :  '  He  came  here 
to  ask  me  where  he  could  find  Miss  Crawford.  He  came  to 
me  as  an  old  friend  of  her  father's.  He  thought  that  per 
haps  I  knew  and  would  tell  him.  He 's  going  there  to-night, 
as  he  wants  to  see  her  particularly? 

He  paused  and  looked  round  at  Wilkins  ;  but  he  sat  with 
his  head  between  his  hands,  looking  on  the  floor ;  and  then 
he  turned  to  Higgs,  and  they  both  stood  face  to  face.  Nei 
ther  spoke,  but  the  attorney  saw  that  the  thin,  sharp  features 
of  his  confederate  were  rigid  and  pinched ;  his  jaws  firmly 


252  THE    ATTORNEY. 

set,  as  if  screwed  together,  and  his  lip  quivering  with  fierce 
emotion. 

1  Sit  still,  both  of  you ! '  said  Higgs,  in  a  hoarse  whisper ; 
'  do  n't  stir  on  your  lives  —  neither  of  you.  I  Ve  often  risked 
my  life  for  less  than  twenty  thousand,  and,  by  G-d,  I  '11  do 
it  now  !  Your  dirk,  George  ;  but  no  !  —  no  blood  ;  a  blow 
will  be  better.'  As  his  harill  touched  the  knob,  Bolton's 
resolution  failed  him,  and  he  sprang  forward : 

'  Stop  !  stop  !  my  God !  my  God  !   I  cannot !  I  dare  not ! ' 

1  But  /  dare  ! '  hissed  out  Higgs ;  '  do  n't  balk  me  now, 
or,  by  G-d,  you  '11  rue  it ! ' 

'  What  would  you  do  ? '  exclaimed  the  attorney,  wringing 
his  hands. 

*  Talk  to  him  !  talk  to  him  !  only  talk  to  him ! '  muttered 
he.  '  Back,  back,  I  say !  Keep  the  door  shut ;  tight  — 
tight !  Ask  no  questions  ;  see  nothing  ;  hear  nothing ;  and 
do  n't  come  in  that  room,  or  I  '11  cut  your  throat.' 

He  laid  his  hand  on  the  door,  and  Bolton  would  again 
have  interfered ;  but  Wilkins  now  rose,  seized  him  by  the 
shoulders,  and  dashed  him  back  on  the  floor  as  if  he  had 
been  a  child  ;  while  Higgs  flung  open  the  door,  and  darted 
into  the  other  room.  But  it  was  empty.  The  outer  door 
was  open,  and  the  old  man  was  gone. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  253 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

IT  needed  but  a  glance  at  the  excited  features  of  Higgs, 
as  he  broke  from  the  grasp  of  the  attorney  and  rushed  into 
the  outer  office,  to  see  that  his  mind  was  made  up  for  murder ; 
but  when  he  found  the  apartment  empty,  and  his  victim 
gone,  its  very  quiet  and  air  of  desertion  brought  with  it  a 
reaction.  It  was  so  hushed,  so  dim  and  gloomy !  A  faint 
blaze  flickered  up  from  the  crumbling  fire,  and  fantastic 
shadows  leaped  along  the  dusky  halls,  whirling  and  flitting 
about  like  spectres  at  revel,  and  apparently  beckoning  him 
on.  Higgs  was  a  man  of  little  imagination,  and  not  prone 
to  weak  fancies ;  but,  for  a  moment  he  yielded  to  a  feeling 
of  misgiving.  This  irresolution  however  was  transient ;  for  the 
next  instant  he  turned,  and  warning  the  attorney  back,  sprang 
through  the  door,  darting  along  the  dark  passage  and  down 
the  tottering  stairs,  utterly  reckless  of  life  and  limb  in  his 
headlong  haste.  He  heard  the  echo  of  retreating  footsteps 
in  front  of  him,  but  when  he  reached  the  street  he  lost  them, 
nor  was  there  a  soul  in  sight. 

It  was  very  dark ;  for  although  the  night  was  clear,  there 
was  no  moon-light.  The  house  stood  in  a  neighborhood  where 
none  cared  to  linger  after  night-fall ;  a  lone,  dreary  spot,  of 
bad  repute,  where  a  blow  might  be  struck  or  a  stab  given, 
and  the  last  cry  of  the  victim  be  echoed  only  through  the 
deserted  rooms  of  ruined  houses  ;  or  if  heard,  heard  only  by 
those  too  much  accustomed  to  sounds  of  suffering  and  de 
spair  to  heed  them.  In  such  a  place  Higgs  feared  no  inter 
ruption  to  any  act  of  violence,  and  he  had  as  little  apprehen- 


254  THE    ATTORNEY. 

sion  of  its  discovery.  Perhaps  after  a  time  this  man  might 
be  missed  ;  his  body  found  ;  a  bustle  created,  and  a  search 
made  ;  but  soon,  amid  the  never-ending  stir  and  excitement 
of  this  vast  city,  the  matter  would  blow  over,  and  both  the 
murderer  and  his  victim  be  forgotten. 

With  thoughts  like  these  in  his  mind,  he  hurried  up  the 
street,  looking  into  the  houses.  The  doors  of  many  were 
wide  open  ;  some  because  they  were  deserted  and  tenantless, 
others  because  their  occupants  were  too  wretchedly  poor  to 
offer  temptation  for  theft  or  burglary.  In  one  he  fancied 
that  he  saw  the  dim  outline  of  a  human  figure  shrinking 
back  as  he  approached ;  but  on  entering  and  groping  about 
in  the  dark,  he  found  that  he  was  mistaken.  It  was  only  a 
door  swinging  idly  in  the  wind.  Feeling  his  way  out,  he 
resumed  his  search  without  success.  He  saw  but  one  per 
son  ;  a  man  as  savage  and  reckless  as  himself,  who  half 
paused  and  eyed  him  as  if  he  too  were  on  no  peaceable 
errand ;  and  then  went  on,  hesitating,  and  looking  back  until 
the  darkness  hid  him.  Finding  his  task  a  fruitless  one, 
Higgs  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  back,  endeavoring  to 
solve  in  his  mind  the  somewhat  uncertain  problem  whether 
the  abrupt  departure  of  the  old  man  was  in  any  manner 
connected  with  the  conversation  which  had  taken  place  be 
tween  Bolton  and  himself,  or  was  the  result  of  accident. 

'A  vigorous  old  boy  he  must  have  been,  or  he  could  n't 
have  hobbled  off  so  fast !  The  pettifogger  was  wrong. 
There 's  no  use  up  about  his  trotters,'  muttered  he,  as  he 
stood  at  the  door  of  the  building,  straining  his  eyes  to  pene 
trate  the  gloom  which  enveloped  every  thing,  and  which,  in 
the  shadow  formed  by  the  irregular  angles  of  the  house, 
assumed  a  pitchy  blackness.  '  He  might  easily  be  hid 
away  in  this  ragged  old  piece  of  brick-work.  A  dozen  men 
might  skulk  yonder,'  said  he,  leaning  over  an  area  whose 


THE    ATTORNEY.  255 

darkness  made  it  seem  deeper  than  it  really  was.  After  a 
vain  attempt  to  carry  on  his  investigations  in  that  quarter, 
he  detached  a  stone  from  the  crumbling  wall  and  threw  it 
in.  A  sudden  splash  followed.  '  The  house  is  built  over  a 
swamp,  I  remember.  He  can't  be  there.  Pah !  the  smell 
of  the  stagnant  water  is  enough  to  choke  one ! ' 

He  turned  away  and  stood  with  his  hand  on  the  door-post ; 
and  then,  relinquishing  the  search,  went  in,  his  slow,  delibe 
rate  tread  jarring  heavily  along  the  empty  hall.  No  sooner 
had  it  died  away  than  the  street-door,  which  had  been  so 
wide  open  that  it  touched  the  entry-wall,  was  cautiously 
pushed  forward,  and  a  head  thrust  from  behind  it.  After 
casting  a  quick,  hurried  glance  about  him,  the  old  witness 
darted  out.  Half  wild  with  a  vague  fear  of  he  knew  not  what, 
he  darted  through  the  street ;  now  running,  now  tottering 
and  reeling  from  age  and  debility ;  ever  and  anon  casting  a 
terrified  look  behind  him,  as  if  in  dread  of  pursuit ;  but  still 
pushing  on  as  if  death  and  delay  went  hand  in  hand  ;  and 
as  eager  to  save  the  few  days  of  decrepitude  which  would 
sum  up  his  span  of  existence,  as  if  life  were  in  its  morning, 
and  his  frame  full  of  health  and  strength.  He  did  not  pause 
nor  slacken  his  pace  until  he  found  himself  in  a  wide  street 
where  there  was  a  throng  of  people  moving  to  and  fro. 
When  once  there,  he  began  to  feel  secure,  and  stopped  to 
breathe  and  to  look  for  some  one  whom  he  knew.  Hundreds 
passed  him  ;  singly,  or  in  knots  of  four  or  five  ;  persons  of  all 
classes  ;  some  pushing  along  in  haste,  others  sauntering  idly 
on.  And  with  what  varied  expression  !  There  was  the  gay, 
glad  eye  of  the  young  and  the  happy ;  the  buoyant  step  of 
hope ;  and  the  slow,  shuffling  gait,  the  wandering,  vacant 
look,  the  hollow  cheek,  and  the  moody  expression  of  wretch 
edness  and  despair.  Night  is  the  season  when  misery  stalks 
forth,  and  squalid  figures,  that  during  the  noon-day  cower  in 


256  THE    ATTORNEY. 

hiding-places  which  the  light  of  the  sun  never  cheers,  come 
forth  with  the  bats  and  owls,  and  glide  like  spectres  through 
the  streets. 

The  old  man  saw  much  to  sicken  his  heart ;  but  the  sad 
dest  of  all  was  what  he  could  not  mid  —  the  face  of  a  friend 
or  acquaintance.  He  had  hoped  for  that.  It  was  an  idle 
hope  ;  for  he  had  been  away  many  long  years ;  and  those 
whom  he  had  left  young  were  gray-headed  now ;  and  all 
was  strange  where  once  all  had  been  familiar.  He  should 
have  gone  to  the  church-yard  and  looked  over  the  grass- 
grown  grave-stones,  and  he  would  have  seen  there  old  and 
long-cherished  names ;  for  most  of  those  whom  he  now 
thought  of,  and  whom  he  had  not  heard  of  for  years,  had 
laid  their  heads  there,  and  were  sleeping  undisturbed  by  the 
hum  and  turmoil  of  the  moving  thousands  above  their  rest 
ing-places. 

He  stood  for  a  long  time  leaning  on  his  stick,  and  watch 
ing  the  varying  crowd.  Then,  shaking  his  head  sadly,  he 
joined  it  and  drifted  on  in  the  living  current.  Now  that  he 
was  once  more  amid  the  stir  of  life,  he  began  to  wonder 
what  had  caused  his  sudden  alarm.  He  could  not  tell.  The 
attorney,  it  was  true,  had  seemed  much  agitated  when  he 
saw  him ;  had  left  him  abruptly ;  had  gone  into  another 
room,  from  which  had  issued  the  sound  of  voices  in  high 
dispute.  Hearing  this,  he  had  skulked  off ;  and  that  was 
all.  He  had  heard  nothing  more.  A  man  had  come  out, 
and  had  even  gone  into  the  street  to  look  after  him,  appa 
rently  surprised  at  his  abrupt  departure.  It  was  quite  natural 
that  he  should  be  so ;  and  he  was  an  old  fool.  So  thought  the 
witness  as  he  went  on ;  growing  courageous  as  he  left  the 
danger  behind  him.  *  Yet  it  was  strange  too  that  he  should 
have  been  seized  with  such  unaccountable  terror — for  he 
was  no  cowar  1 ;  no,  he  knew  he  was  n't ; '  and  he  clutched 


THE    ATTORNEY.  257 

his  stick,  struck  it  fiercely  against  a  post,  straightened  him 
self  up,  and  endeavored  to  feel  young  and  bold  as  he  had 
once  done.  But  he  was  old  now,  and  young  feelings  will  no 
more  come  to  an  old  frame  than  young  hopes  to  an  old  heart. 
His  fatigue  and  fright  had  been  too  much  for  him  ;  and  after 
c;oing  a  short  distance,  he  leaned  against  a  railing,  resting 
his  cheek  upon  the  cold  iron.  He  stood  there  so  long  and 
seemed  so  much  exhausted,  that  he  attracted  the  attention 
of  a  man  standing  on  the  opposite  corner,  whistling  to  him 
self,  and  with  a  small  rattan  beating  time  to  his  music  on  a 
pile  of  empty  boxes,  without  seeming  to  know  that  he  did 
so.  Whatever  might  have  been  his  object  in  waiting,  he 
gave  it  up,  and  crossing  to  where  the  witness  was,  stood 
watching  him  without  speaking,  but  whistling  as  before.  At 
last  he  went  up  to  him  and  said : 

'  You  seem  ill,  my  good  fellow,  or  tired ;  what  ails  you  ? ' 

'  I  'm  old,'  replied  the  other.  '  Old  age  is  a  sickness  which 
has  no  cure,  young  man  ;  no  cure  —  no  cure  !  You  '11  find 
it  out  some  day,  if  you  live  long  enough.' 

'  Perhaps  I  may,'  said  the  stranger,  a  man  whose  powerful 
and  well-knit  frame  seemed  built  to  bid  defiance  to  time  for 
many  years  to  come.  '  Perhaps  I  may,  and  perhaps  I  may 
find  a  home  in  the  ground  before  that.  Who  knows  ? ' 

'  Who  knows,  indeed  ! '  muttered  the  other.  And  repeat 
ing  these  words,  he  prepared  to  resume  his  walk,  when  the 
stranger  continued : 

'  I  am  going  the  same  way,  if  that 's  it  ? '  He  pointed  with 
his  stick  up  the  street.  'And  as  you  seem  tired,  if  you  choose 
you  may  lean  on  my  arm  as  far  as  you  go.  I  'm  strong,  and 
it  won't  trouble  me.' 

The  old  man  thanked  him,  took  his  arm  without  hesita 
tion,  and  they  walked  on,  he  talking  of  the  city  as  it  had 
been  when  he  was  young;  how  it  had  changed;  how  the 


258  THE    ATTORNEY. 

green  fields,  with  their  waving  grass  and  bright  flowers,  had 
given  place  to  massive  and  gloomy  piles  of  brick-and-mor- 
tar ;  how  the  quiet  shady  lanes  which  he  had  frequented 
when  a  boy  were  now  narrow  streets,  with  tall  houses  frown 
ing  down  on  them  from  each  side.  How  close  and  pent  up 
the  air  seemed  to  him  !  lie  wondered  at  it  too  ;  for  he  had 
been  used  to  the  city  when  he  was  a  child  ;  but  it  was  not 
then  what  it  is  now.  He  had  gathered  apples  in  what  was 
now  the  very  heart  of  this  great  throbbing  metropolis  ;  and 
where  they  now  were  was  then  far  out  of  town.  Things  were 
greatly  altered  ;  but  he  had  been  absent  nearly  twenty  years, 
and  of  course  he  must  expect  it ;  but  still  it  did  look  very 
strange  to  come  back  and  find  it  so  changed,  and  the  faces 
of  all  about  you  changed,  and  no  one  whom  you  knew  ;  all 
dead,  or  gone  off —  very  few  left.  '  God  bless  me  !  how  full 
the  church-yard  must  be  !  How  the  dead  must  crowd  each 
other  !  Ay,  and  the  living  too  ;  how  they  crowd  and  cluster 
together ;  so  close  that  one  cannot  find  even  an  old  friend. 
I  Ve  been  looking  for  a  man  for  some  days,'  said  he,  break 
ing  off  in  his  rambling  conversation ;  *  perhaps  you  knew 
him  ?  —  a  Mr.  Crawford.  I  'm  told  he  's  dead,  though  :  it 
may  be  true  —  it  may  be  true  ;  for  so  many  are  dead,  that 
it 's  like  enough  he  's  gone  with  the  rest  of  them.' 

*  It 's  a  common  name,'  said  the  other.  '  What  was  his 
first  name  ? ' 

'  I  Ve  forgotten  —  I  Ve  forgotten.  The  lawyer  knows :  but 
he  did  not  tell  me.  If  I  could  recollect  that,  I  could  find 
him  without  trouble.' 

'  It  will  not  be  easy  without  knowing  that,'  said  the 
stranger.  '  There  are  many  of  the  name  ;  still,  it  can  be 
done.  I  am  going  in  here,'  said  he,  stopping  in  front  of  an 
eating-house  and  pointing  in  the  door.  'I  have  a  keen 
appetite,  and,  late  as  it  is,  Lave  not  yet  dined.  So  I  '11  bk? 
you  good-bye.' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  259 

*  I  'm  scarcely  less  hungry  than  you  are,'  replied  the  old 
man,  looking  at  the  house.     It  was  a  tempting  place,  snug 
and  old-fashioned.     There  was  a  flood  of  light  within,  and 
through  the  half-opened  door  came  the  flashing  blaze  of  a 
fire.     Every  thing  about  it  had  a  cheerful  and  comfortable 
appearance  ;  while  the  street  was  dark  and  cheerless,  and, 
though  crowded  with  living  souls,  was  lonely  to  one  to  whom 
they  were  all  strangers.     A  companion  was  a  pleasant  thing 
to  him  ;  and  so,  without  much  reflection,  and  somewhat  to 
the  surprise  of  his  new  acquaintance,  he  followed  him  in, 
and  seating  himself,  cast  an  investigating  eye  toward  a  table 
which  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  covered  with  viands 
of  various  descriptions ;  serving  both  as  a  bill  of  fare  and  as 
a  temptation  to  the  appetite.     At  one  end  of  the  apartment, 
on  a  small  stool,  sat  a  red-faced  lady  with  a  large  head  and 
a  small  cap  on  the  top  of  it,  a  little  the  worse  for  wear.    But 
the  wearer  was  of  an  amplitude  which  spoke  well  for  the 
nutritious  qualities  of  the  larder,  and  fully  atoned  for  any 
deficiency  in  the  dimensions  of  her  head-gear.     On  seeing 
the  visitors,  by  a  sudden  motion  of  her  feet  she  caused  her 
self  to  revolve  rapidly  on  the  stool,  and  looking  very  hard 
through  a  small  door,  opening  into  a  dark  depository,  she 
called  :  *  Tim ! ' 

*  Halloa ! '  responded  Tim. 

'  Two  gen'lemen  's  waitin'  to  be  sarved.' 

'  Oh  ! '  said  Tim ;  and  he  forthwith  appeared  in  the  shape 
of  a  large  boy,  with  an  uncombed  head  and  his  shirt-sleeves 
tucked  up.  Having  received  the  orders  of  the  two  visitors, 
he  with  equal  alacrity  communicated  those  orders  to  his  mis 
tress,  and  she,  with  a  celerity  quite  remarkable  in  a  person 
of  her  size,  set  about  fulfilling  them,  so  that  but  a  short  time 
elapsed  before  a  dish  of  smoking  meat  was  on  the  table 
before  them,  and  they  both  fell  to ;  one  with  the  high  relish 


260  THE    ATTORNEY. 

of  youth,  and  the  other  with  the  keen  appetite  of  long  ab 
stinence. 

*  Ha  ! '  said  the  old  man,  plying  his  knife  and  fork  vigor 
ously,  and  occasionally  pausing  to  wipe  his  mouth  on  the 
end  of  the  table-cloth ;  '  once  taste  the  food,  and  appetite 
comes.  Yet  not  half  an  hour  ago  I  had  a  fright  which  I 
could  well-nigh  have  sworn  would  have  kept  me  without  one 
for  a  month.  Well,  well ;  man  is  a  strange  animal ! '  And 
as  if  the  arriving  at  this  conclusion  was  a  settlement  of  all 
his  difficulties,  he  again  thrust  his  fork  into  the  dish  and  ate 
with  renewed  vigor. 

His  companion,  who  had  been  equally  busy,  with  this  dif 
ference,  that  he  did  not  speak  at  all,  at  last  laid  down  his 
knife  and  fork,  and  pushing  his  plate  from  him  as  if  he  had 
finished,  inquired  what  had  frightened  him. 

'Ay,  you  may  well  ask !  you  may  well  ask ! '  said  the  old 
man,  shaking  his  head  gravely ;  '  for  I  can  scarcely  tell  my 
self.  When  I  was  young  like  you,  I  would  not  have  turned 
for  a  troop  of  mounted  horsemen ;  but  I  am  old  now,  young 
man,  and  old  age  is  shadowed  by  care,  and  fear,  and  sus 
picion.  When  the  ability- to  resist  danger  leaves  one,  the 
fear  of  it  becomes  stronger.  Timidity  and  decrepitude  come 
together.  And  he]  said  he,  half-speaking  to  himself,  '  is  a  man 
one  does  n't  like  to  be  alone  with ;  and  it 's  a  dark  old  place 
that  he  lives  in ;  and  he  did  look  strangely  when  I  spoke  to 
him  to-night  —  indeed  he  did  !  He  was  so  white,  and  his 
hands  shook,  and  his  voice  was  husky,  and  his  eyes  glassy. 
No,  no !  It  was  n't  all  fancy  ;  and  he  slunk  off  with  a  slow, 
stealthy  step,  like  a  cat  when  she  steals  on  a  mouse.  No, 
no  !  — it  was  n't  for  nothing  that  I  was  frightened.' 

'  I  'in  all  in  the  dark,'  said  the  stranger,  who  sat  listening 
with  no  appearance  of  great  interest,  but  still  amused  at 
the  earnest  manner  of  his  companion.  '  Who  was  the  man 


THE    ATTORNEY.  261 

that  scared  you  ?  and  what  was  it  all  about  ?     Tell  me  — 
come.' 

'  I  told  you  before,'  said  the  other,  '  that  I  was  looking  for 
a  Mr.  Crawford.  Did  n't  I?' 

The  stranger  nodded. 

'  Well,  it  was  about  him.  I  lived  with  him  many  a  long 
year  ago,  when  he  was  young  —  before  he  was  married.  A 
gay  young  fellow  he  was  too ;  ay,  and  I  was  at  his  wedding ; 
a  runaway  match  —  his  friends  never  knew  it.  There  was 
only  I  and  Daniel  Ripley  —  poor  fellow  !  but  he  's  dead  and 
gone,  and  the  parson  's  dead,  and  Crawford 's  dead,  and  his 
wife 's  dead  —  all  dead  but  me !  It 's  very  strange  !  But  I 
suppose  my  turn  will  come  soon.  Well,  they  were  married, 
and  shortly  afterwards  I  went  away,  and  have  been  gone  nearly 
twenty  long  years.  I  came  back  two  weeks  ago.  I  went  to 
inquire  where  Mr.  Crawford  lived,  for  I  wanted  to  see  him. 
I  found  that  a  man  had  been  looking  for  me,  and  asking 
whether  I  was  alive  or  dead.  He  said  that  he  was  an  old 
friend  of  Mr.  Crawford's,  and  his  name  was  Bolton ;  a  law 
yer —  Reuben  Bolton.' 

'  Ha ! '  exclaimed  his  listener,  who  had  hitherto  been  lean 
ing  back  in  his  chair,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  old  man's 
face,  for  no  other  purpose  than  that  of  giving  him  an  oppor 
tunity  of  indulging  his  garrulity  :  *  ha !  what  did  you  say 
the. lawyer's  name  was  ? ' 

'I  told  you  that  before  —  Reuben  Bolton.  He  knew 
where  Mr.  Crawford  lived  ;  so  I  went  to  him  to  ask,  and  he 
questioned  me  as  to  what  I  wanted,  and  about  him,  and 
about  his  marriage ;  and  then  he  told  me  that  he  was  dead, 
and  that  he  believed  he  had  left  no  children.' 

'  Well,  go  on ! '  said  the  other,  now  listening  with  keen 
attention.  '  He  said  that  he  had  left  no  children,  did  he  ? 
What  then  ? ' 

*  Yes,  he  said  so ;  but  he  said  he  'd  ask,  and  let  me  know. 


262  THE    ATTORNEY. 

I  told  him  that  I  had  a  longing  to  see  any  one  of  the  old 
man's  kin.  I  loved  him,  for  he  was  kind  to  me  years  ago ; 
and  although  I  had  forgotten  his  first  name,  I  had  not  for 
gotten  that.  But  names  will  never  stay  in  my  head.  My 
memory  fails,'  said  he,  tapping  his  wrinkled  forehead,  and 
shaking  his  head  ;  '  it  shows  I  'in  growing  old.' 

*  Well,  did  you  see  him  1 ' 

'  Yes,  I  went  there  ;  and  he  said  Mr.  Crawford  was  dead, 
and  had  left  no  children.' 

*  The  liar ! '   muttered  the   stranger,   between  his  teeth. 
'  Well,  go  on.' 

'  He  told  me  that,  and  that  he  never  had  had  any ;  but  I 
knew  better,'  continued  he,  rubbing  his  hands  with  much 
apparent  glee.  '  I  knew  that  he  had  a  daughter  ;  and  I  told 
him  so.  And  so  I  did  n't  believe  the  rest.  He  seemed  vexed 
and  uneasy  at  having  been  misinformed,  and  said  he  'd  ask 
again,  and  wished  me  to  come  to-day.' 

'  Did  you  go  ? '  inquired  the  other. 

'  Yes,  I  did.  It 's  a  very  dreary  place  at  night,  and  I  felt 
a  strange  sinking  of  the  heart  as  I  was  going  up  the  stairs  ; 
and  I  thought  I  heard  something  whispering  in  my  ear  to 
keep  away.  It  was  very  dismal ;  and  the  old  house  moaned 
and  seemed  like  an  old  ghost,  so  that  when  I  got  to  his  room 
I  was  nearly  frightened  to  death  ;  and  when  he  stepped  out 
and  met  me,  I  thought  the  Devil  himself  had  come.  There 
he  stood  twisting  his  fingers  ;  his  eyes  on  fire ;  his  lips  qui 
vering  and  trembling  as  if  he  had  an  ague-fit ;  and  at  last 
he  stole  into  the  inner  room,  and  there  was  something  in  his 
eye  so  devilish  that  I  grew  faint-hearted,  and  hurried  out 
without  waiting  for  him  to  corne  back.  You  see  I  'm  old 
now,  very  old.  I  would  not  have  done  so  many  years  ago ; 
but  I  'm  easily  frightened  now,  and  I  heard  men  quarrelling 
and  whispering  in  the  back  room,  and  a  struggle.  There 
might  have  been  a  murder  doing  there.  I  do  n't  know  —  I 


THE    ATTORNEY.  263 

do  n't  know ;  but  there  might  have  been  —  there  might  have 
been.     I  Ve  heard  of  such  things. 

'  Is  that  all  ? '  said  the  young  man. 

'  That 's  all.     I  was  coming  away  when  I  met  you.' 

*  Well,'  said  the  stranger,  '  I  can  help  you  to  what  you 
want.     The  man's  name  was  John  Crawford.     He  is  dead, 
and  has  left  a  daughter,  who  is  now  alive,  and  no  doubt  will 
be  glad  to  see  you.     Her  father  died  a  few  weeks  since,  and 
by  his  "Will  gave  all  his  property  to  this  Bolton,  and  to  his 
daughter  —  nothing.' 

'  I  do  n't  believe  it ! '  exclaimed  the  old  man,  positively. 
'  I  do  n't  believe  it !  I  '11  go  to  her  and  tell  her  so.' 

'  Well,  you  can  do  as  you  like,'  said  his  companion  ;  and 
taking  a  piece  of  paper  from  his  pocket,  he  wrote  a  few 
words  upon  it. 

*  There  's  the  nair^e  of  the  street  and  the  number  where 
she  lives ;  and  there,'  said  he,  '  if  you  want  at  any  time  to 
make  further  inquiries  of  me,  is  my  name  and  address.'    As 
he  spoke,  he  added  something  to  the  bottom  of  the  paper. 
*  I  must  leave  you  now,  for  I  have  overstayed  rny  time,  and 
am  to  meet  a  man  on  business.' 

'  Thank  you,  my  young  friend,'  said  the  old  man,  taking 
his  hand  ;  *  you  Ve  been  very  kind  to  me.  The  young  do  n't 
often  think  of  the  old ;  but  you  have,  and  I  thank  you  for 
it.  I  '11  rest  here  awhile,  and  then  go  on.  God  bless  you ! ' 

The  young  man  turned  his  frank,  good-humored  face 
toward  him,  and  bidding  him  good-night  with  a  merry  voice 
and  a  warm  shake  of  his  hand,  he  called  the  servant,  paid 
his  reckoning,  and  went  out. 

When  he  was  gone,  the  old  man  drew  a  candle  close  to 
him,  put  on  a  pair  of  old  iron  spectacles,  held  the  paper  to 
the  light  to  ascertain  the  name  of  his  new  friend,  and  read 
the  words  :  '  JOHN  PHILLIPS,  No.  96,  street.' 


264  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

LATE  that  night  Phillips  sat  in  his  own  room,  pondering 
over  the  words  of  the  old  man  whom  he  had  so  oddly  en 
countered.  The  more  he  thought  them  over,  the  more  weight 
they  seemed  to  have.  Could  it  be  that  he  knew  more  than 
he  had  expressed,  when  he  so  boldly  denied  his  belief  that 
Mr.  Crawford  had  disinherited  his  daughter  ?  And  was  it 
possible  that  Lucy  was  right,  when  in  her  interview  with  him 
she  had  declared  that  Will  to  be  a  forgery  ? 

'  It  must  be  so  ! '  exclaimed  he,  starting  from  his  chair,  and 
pacing  the  room  ;  '  and  I  have  been  duped  by  that  scoundrel 
Higgs.  I  might  have  known  that  truth  never  came  from 
such  a  source  as  that.  Lucy  was  right.  She  spoke  posi 
tively  ;  it  was  no  vague  suspicion  ;  she  said  she  knew  it  and 
could  prove  it.  The  lawyer  too,  he  trifles  with  the  old  man  ; 
he  lies  to  him,  to  keep  him  from  seeing  Miss  Crawford.  He 
was  afraid  that  they  should  meet  —  that  was  it !  Yet,  what 
could  that  old  man  have  to  do  with  Mr.  Crawford's  concerns, 
that  Bolton  should  dread  his  seeing  his  daughter  ?  I  cannot 
understand  it  —  yet  there  must  have  been  a  reason  for  it. 
What  could  have  frightened  that  gray-headed  old  man 
to-night  ?  His  look  —  what  was  there  in  that  ? '  He  stopped 
in  the  middle  of  his  walk,  in  deep  thought :  '  That  might 
have  been  fancy.  It  must  have  been  ;  for  he  would  not  dare 

to Well,  well,'  continued  he,  breaking  off  in  his 

musing ;  '  I  '11  see  Lucy  to-morrow.  Poor  girl !  she  must 
think  me  lukewarm  indeed.' 

Phillips  was  one  of  those  who  earn  their  bread  by  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  265 

sweat  of  their  brow ;  and  it  was  not  until  the  following  after 
noon  that  he  was  at  leisure  to  direct  his  steps  toward  Miss 
Crawford's  residence.  His  way  lay  past  the  office  of  the 
attorney ;  and  as  he  looked  up  at  the  crumbling  walls,  he 
could  not  help  cursing  them  in  his  heart,  and  wishing  that 
they  might  some  day  fall  to  the  ground  and  crush  in  their 
ruins  the  dark  schemer  who  had  his  nest  there. 

Just  at  the  hour  when  Phillips  was  on  his  way  to  Lucy,  a 
female  was  walking  slowly  along  a  narrow  street  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  city.  This  was  Lucy ;  but  Lucy  sadly  altered — 
feeble  and  wasted ;  her  frame  worn  down  by  sorrow  and 
anxiety.  She  paused  frequently  to  rest,  and  looked  listlessly 
about  her,  as  if  her  thoughts  were  far  away.  Few  noticed 
her ;  for  there  was  little  in  the  outward  appearance  of  the 
meanly-dressed  girl  to  attract  attention.  A  loiterer,  as  he 
passed,  might  glance  at  her  frail  figure,  and  at  the  lustrous 
eyes,  so  deep  and  dark  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  very  soul 
were  looking  out  of  them,  and  wonder  who  she  was  and 
what  she  did  in  the  streets,  and  whether  she  would  live 
through  the  winter ;  and  his  eye  might  even  sadden ;  but 
before  he  had  reached  the  next  street  she  was  forgotten. 

But  if  they  thought  not  of  her,  she  thought  as  little  of 
them.  She  had  but  one  motive  of  action  now,  and  that  was 
a  burning  desire  to  extricate  her  husband  from  the  influence 
of  Bolton.  The  fear  of  what  might  happen  to  him,  and  that 
she  might  not  be  successful  in  foiling  the  attorney,  had  made 
the  havoc  of  years  in  her  appearance ;  had  robbed  her  of 
her  look  of  youth,  and  had  stamped  upon  her  brow  that  ex 
pression  of  deep  and  sad  thought  which  time  alone  should 
bring. 

If  she  was  feeble  when  we  last  saw  her,  she  was  far  more 
feeble  now.  Her  breath  was  short  and  labored  ;  her  cheek 
pale,  transparent,  and  colorless,  except  a  single  bright  spot 
12 


26C  THE    ATTORNEY. 

in  it,  brilliant  and  glowing,  as  if  the  last  rays  of  life  were 
lingering  there  before  they  departed  for  ever.  Still  there 
was  something  so  restless  and  earnest  about  her,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  an  eager,  powerful  will  were  taxing  her  debili 
tated  frame  beyond  its  strength.  She  never  murmured ;  but 
there  was  something  painful  in  her  sad  smile  as  she  surveyed 
her  own  attenuated  form,  when  she  was  obliged  to  pause 
from  fatigue.  She  felt  that  in  all  else  except  earnest  devo 
tion  of  heart  and  fixedness  of  purpose,  she  was  not  the  same 
that  she  had  been  a  short  time  since,  when  she  spent  the 
whole  day  in  search  of  her  husband.  Her  heart  was  very 
heavy  now  ;  for  she  had  no  hope  of  his  love  to  cheer  her  on : 
no,  no ;  he  had  crushed  that !  Her  strength  too  was  gone ; 
but  what  of  that  ?  She  could  still  move  about,  and  while 
she  could  do  that,  something  might  yet  be  done  for  him. 
She  felt  at  times  a  strange  sensation  of  weakness  ;  but  that 
would  soon  wear  off,  she  thought,  and  she  had  no  other 
ailment.  She  was  still  young;  her  eye  was  not  heavy,  and 
her  cheek  was  very  bright.  And  so  she  dreamed  on,  forget 
ting  herself,  thinking  only  of  Wilkins  ;  and  in  her  plans 
and  schemes  for  his  welfare,  unconscious  of  the  cloud  that 
was  gradually  covering  her  with  its  dark  shadow. 

It  was  a  work  of  time  for  her  to  reach  her  place  of  desti 
nation,  which  was  no  other  than  Bolton's  office ;  for  thither 
she  had  resolved  to  go ;  to  see  the  lawyer  herself ;  to  use 
tears,  entreaties,  arguments,  and,  if  necessary,  even  menaces ; 
and  she  thought  that  she  knew  enough  to  bend  him  to  her 
will.  At  all  events,  it  was  worth  the  trial. 

As  she  went  on,  engrossed  in  her  own  thoughts,  she  did 
not  observe  that  for  some  distance  she  had  been  followed  by 
a  man  who  kept  her  always  in  sight,  loitering  slowly  to  keep 
pace  with  her  ;  and  it  was  not  until  she  came  in  sight  of  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  267 

house  in  which  the  lawyer's  office  was,  that  he  walked  up 
and  touched  her  gently  on  the  shoulder. 

4  Lucy ! ' 

The  girl  started ;  a  slight  flush  passed  over  her  face,  as 
she  saw  who  it  was ;  and  a  faint  smile  flickered  about  her 
mouth  ;  but  it  went  as  soon  as  it  came. 

'Ah  !  Jack ! '  said  she,  '  you  see  I  have  n't  given  up  yet. 
I  'm  going  there  ! '  She  pointed  to  the  dilapidated  building 
which  loomed  up  against  the  sky.  *  I  will  see  the  lawyer 
myself;  and  perhaps  when  he  hears  what  I  have  to  say,  and 
knows  that  I  arn  his  wife,  and  that  my  heart  is  breaking,  he 
will  find  some  means  of  extricating  George  rather  than  have 
my  death  at  his  door.  They  say  he  is  a  skilful  lawyer,  and 
perhaps  he  will  do  that.  I  can  but  try,  you  know,'  said  she, 
with  a  faint  smile ;  '  and  if  I  succeed,  I  feel  as  if  I  should 
be  quite  well,  though  I  am  very  faint  now,  and  a  very  little 
wearies  me.'  As  she  spoke,  she  pressed  her  hand  against 
her  side,  and  her  breath  came  quick  and  fluttering,  like  that 
of  a  wounded  bird. 

'  Let  me  go  with  you,  Lucy,'  said  Phillips,  earnestly ;  '  let 
me  go  with  you  to  protect  you  from  insult ;  for,  believe  me, 
you  will  need  protection.  Do,  Lucy ;  dear  Lucy,  do  !  I 
will  not  open  my  lips  unless  he  treats  you  ill.  You  shall  do 
every  thing,  and  say  every  thing.  Only  let  me  be  with  you ; 
and  let  him  see  that  you  have  at  least  one  friend  left.  It  will 
obtain  for  you  a  milder  answer  and  a  more  patient  hearing. 
I  will  not  say  a  single  word.  I  will  stand  by  only  as  your 
protector.  Will  you,  Lucy  ? ' 

The  girl  shook  her  head.  '  No,  Jack,  it  cannot  be.  You 
know  why  already.  You  know  what  suspicions  are  in  George's 
mind  respecting  you  and  me ;  and  God  forbid  that  I  should 
do  aught  to  give  even  color  to  them.  No,  Jack,  I  thank 
you ;  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  thank  you ;  and  under 


268  THE    ATTORNEY. 

other  circumstances  I  would  gladly  accept  your  offer.  But 
now  I  cannot.  I  must  go  alone ;  and  whatever  is  in  store 
for  me  I  must  meet  —  and  God  give  me  strength  to  do  so 
with  a  good  heart !  Good-bye,  Jack ;  I  'm  wasting  time. 
God  bless  you  ! '  She  made  a  slight  motion  of  her  hand,  as 
if  bidding  him  farewell,  and  attempted  to  smile  ;  but  her 
lips  trembled,  and  the  tears  gushed  in  her  eyes  as  she  left 
him. 

Bolton  was  sitting  at  a  table,  engaged  in  examining  a 
bundle  of  papers,  when  the  door  opened  and  Lucy  entered. 
He  had  never  seen  her,  except  on  the  night  of  his  interview 
with  Miss  Crawford,  and  did  not  now  recognize  her.  Ob 
serving  only  a  meanly-dressed  female,  he  might  have  made 
some  uncourteous  answer  to  her  question  whether  he  was  at 
leisure,  for  the  poor  were  not  welcome  visitors  at  his  door ; 
but  he  observed  that  she  was  exceedingly  beautiful,  so  he 
told  her  to  take  a  seat. 

Lucy  merely  bowed,  and  although  she  grew  deadly  pale, 
she  remained  standing.  Bolton  paused,  and  looked  at  her 
as  if  to  inquire  what  she  wanted. 

'  My  name  is  Wilkins,'  she  said,  with  some  effort ;  '  Mrs. 
George  Wilkins.' 

A  shade  passed  across  Bolton's  face,  and  it  might  have 
been  that  his  eye  grew  troubled  ;  but  his  manner  was  calm. 

'I  have  the  pleasure  of  knowing  your  husband.  I  am 
happy  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Wilkins  also.' 

He  said  nothing  more. 

'  I  presume,'  said  Lucy,  after  a  pause,  '  that  you  do  not 
recollect  having  seen  me  before  1 ' 

Bolton  looked  at  her  earnestly,  and  ran  over  in  his  mind 
a  long  list  of  those  whom  he  had  ruined  and  beggared.  Her 
husband  was  one  of  them ;  but  Lucy  he  had  never  seen  ; 
and  he  shook  his  head  as  he  said  :  *  I  do  not.' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  269 

'And  yet  you  have  seen  me,'  said  Lucy  quietly. 

Again  the  lawyer  fixed  his  eye  on  that  wasted  face,  and 
dreamed  over  the  past.  It  well  might  have  belonged  to  one 
of  his  victims  ;  but  he  could  not  remember  it ;  and  he  asked 
where  it  was. 

'At  Miss  Crawford's,'  said  Lucy,  firmly.  '  You  may  recol 
lect  the  evening  you  first  brought  a  Will  there.' 

Bolton  looked  suspiciously  at  her ;  but  whatever  emotion 
he  might  have  experienced,  he  evinced  none,  and  said 
nothing. 

'A  Will,'  continued  she,  '  which  gave  to  you  all  Miss 
Crawford's  property,  and  left  her  nothing.' 

'  I  am  aware  of  its  contents,'  said  the  lawyer.     '  Well  ? ' 

4  Who  made  that  Will  ? '  demanded  Lucy. 

Bolton  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair,  and  asked  :  '  What 's 
this  Will  to  you  ? ' 

'  Much  ! '  replied  Lucy,  '  much !  I  wish  to  God  that  it  was 
not !  Will  you  answer  my  question  ? ' 

'  My  good  woman,'  said  Bolton,  coldly,  '  my  friendship  for 
your  husband  would  lead  me  to  treat  you  with  all  due  respect. 
But  as  this  is  a  matter  which  does  not  concern  you,  I  must 
decline  speaking  on  the  subject.  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of 
making  my  own  private  affairs  the  subject  of  conversation 
with  strangers,  especially  with  strange  ~women.' 

Lucy's  heart  beat  violently,  and  she  grasped  the  top  of  a 
chair  to  support  herself,  as  she  said : 

*  I  came  here  to  perform  a  duty ;  and  perform  it  I  will,  if 
I  die ! ' 

The  paleness  which  overspread  her  face  seemed  reflected 
in  that  of  the  lawyer. 

'  That  Will  was  signed  by  Mr.  John  Crawford,'  said  Lucy, 
in  a  clear,  distinct  voice  :  '  and  it  was  witnessed  by  my 
husband  and  one  William  Higgs.  Is  not  that  what  you 


270  THE    ATTORNEY. 

The  attorney  made  no  reply 

*  Be  it  so !'  said  Lucy  ;  '  whether  you  speak  or  are  silent, 
the  facts  are  the  same.     That  Will  is  a  forged  one.     I  know 
it  to  be  so.     I  can  prove  it ;  and  I  came  here  to  tell  you  so, 
before  you  or  my  husband  were  gone  too  far  for  your  own 
safety.' 

*  Words  !  words !  —  idle  words  ! '  said  the  attorney.  '  What 
wild  phantasies  women  will  get  in  their  heads  !    Miss  Craw 
ford,  without  the  slightest  reason,  calls  this  Will  a  forgery, 
and  sends  you  to  echo  her  cry ;  as  if  a  woman's  din  could 
frighten  me,  or  a  repetition  of  the  cry  of  '  forgery '  could 
prove  an  authentic  instrument  a  counterfeit !     If  this  is  all 
you  have  to  say,  you  may  save  your  time  and  breath.' 

'And  is  it  so  ? '  said  Lucy,  earnestly.  '  You  will  go  on  in 
this  criminal  transaction !  You  have  already  involved  my 
husband  in  ruin,  and  will  sink  him  yet  deeper.  Will  nothing 
induce  you  to  spare  him  ?  Oh  !  think  of  what  he  was  and 
of  what  he  now  is  —  a  poor,  wretched,  broken-down  man  ; 
and  do  not  make  him  worse.  Do  not  make  him  one  who 
cannot  look  his  fellow-men  in  the  face.  You  have  blighted 
him  already.  For  God's  sake,  leave  him  a  quiet  conscience  ! 
I  will  be  as  secret  as  the  grave.  I  '11  never  breathe  what  I 
know  to  a  human  being ;  and  I  will  bless  you  and  pray  for 
you  —  you,  who  have  been  a  curse  to  him  and  me  —  if  you 
will  but  let  him  escape  this  last  and  greatest  sin  of  all ! ' 

'  So  you  have  come  to  entreaties  at  last,'  said  Bolton,  with 
a  sneer :  '  I  expected  it.  But  you  waste  breath,'  continued 
he,  sternly.  'That  Will  shall  be  proved;  but  at  the  same 
time  I  tell  you  that  it  is  authentic.' 

'And / tell  you'  exclaimed  Lucy,  in  a  clear,  loud  tone,  ' it 
is  not.  I  tell  you  that  it  is  forged,  and  bears  its  falsity  on 
its  very  face.' 

She  leaned  forward  and  whispered  in  the  ear  of  the  law- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  271 

yer.  He  made  no  reply,  but  sat  as  if  frozen  ;  not  a  muscle 
moved.  His  face  became  ghastly  and  livid ;  his  eyes  opened 
and  glared  fixedly  in  their  sockets,  and  his  hand  rested  list 
lessly  on  the  table,  but  it  did  not  stir. 

Lucy,  frightened,  ran  to  the  door  to  call  for  help.  This 
brought  the  attorney  to  himself.  Starting  up,  he  caught  her 
arm. 

'  Come  back  ! '  said  he  sternly  ;  *  come  back !  I  say.  You 
shall  not  leave  this  room  till  I  have  heard  more.  Is  what 
you  have  told  me  true  ? '  demanded  he,  fiercely ;  '  true,  by 
the  God  of  heaven  ? ' 

'  It  is.' 

'And  who  can  prove  it  ? ' 

*  There  are  fifty  at  least,'  said  Lucy.  '  Will  you  go  on 
now  ? ' 

4 1  must !  Do  you  hear  that,  woman  ?  I  MUST  !  Hell  is 
before  me  and  hell  is  behind  me  !  Fifty  can  prove  it ;  but 
it  may  never  reach  their  ears.  You  alone  are  ready  to  do 
so ;  and  you  —  you  dare  not !  ' 

'  Indeed,  for  my  husband's  sake,  I  dare  do  any  thing.' 

'  For  his  sake,  for  Ids  sake,  you  dare  not ! '  exclaimed 
Bolton;  '  for,  by  G-dl  you  '11  condemn  him  if  you  do  !  He 
is  an  accomplice  in  the  fraud,  and  will  go  the  State's-prison 
for  ten  years.  That 's  screening  him  with  a  vengeance  !  — 
screening  him  who,  at  this  very  moment,  is  contriving  the 
shortest  mode  of  getting  you  out  of  his  way,  except  by  cut 
ting  your  throat.  Ha !  ha !  it  makes  me  laugh  ! '  and  the 
attorney  laughed  so  wildly  that  it  made  the  poor  girl  shud 
der.  But  there  was  something  in  his  last  words  that  startled 
her  more  than  all  else  ;  and  she  waited  till  he  was  more 
composed,  and  then  asked  his  meaning. 

1  Simply  this,'  replied  Bolton,  with  a  sneer  :  '  I  have  re 
ceived  instructions  from  your  husband  to  commence  proceed- 


272  THE    ATTORNEY. 

ings  against  you  in  the  Court  of  Chancery,  to  obtain  a 
divorce,  on  the  ground  of  adultery  on  your  part  with  one 
John  Phillips. 

Lucy  shrank  as  if  blighted.  Her  fingers  worked  convul 
sively,  and  she  closed  her  eyes  as  if  to  shut  out  some  painful 
sight,  and  then  she  asked  in  a  whisper : 

*  Is  this  true  ? ' 

1  True  as  you  live,'  replied  Bolton,  coldly. 

'And  will  you  swear  to  it  ? ' 

4 1  will,'  replied  Bolton.     *  Do  you  wish  further  proof?  ' 

'  No,  no  ! '  The  next  moment  the  lawyer  was  alone.  She 
stole  out  of  the  room  and  down  the  stairs,  like  a  cowed  and 
guilty  thing.  Jack  Phillips  met  her  at  the  door  and  spoke 
to  her ;  but  she  did  not  notice  him.  Her  step  was  irregular 
and  unsteady ;  and  she  seemed  as  though  she  would  fall. 
He  joined  her,  and  walked  at  her  side ;  and  she  did  not  for 
bid  him,  nor  did  she  seem  aware  of  his  presence.  He  spoke 
to  her ;  but  she  made  no  answer.  Once  or  twice  she  paused 
to  gain  breath,  and  looked  him  full  in  the  face,  and  there 
was  so  much  agony  in  that  look,  that  he  dared  not  inquire 
further ;  but  he  drew  her  arm  in  his,  and  in  silence  accom 
panied  her  until  they  came  to  Miss  Crawford's  house.  Here 
he  stopped. 

'  One  word,  Lucy,'  said  he :  '  you  know  I  would  do  any 
thing  for  you,  and  I  feel  as  deeply  interested  in  your  welfare 
as  if  you  were  my  own  sister  —  indeed  I  do.  Tell  me  what 
success  you  had  with  the  lawyer.  Is  there  any  hope  ? ' 

*  Only  in  heaven  !  — only  in  heaven ! '  exclaimed  she  ;  and 
drawing  her  arm  from  his,  she  hurried  into  the  house. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  273 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

THE  attorney  stood  like  a  statue,  as  Lucy  went  out,  nei 
ther  moving  nor  speaking  to  interrupt  her.  He  heard  her 
steps  as  she  went  down  the  stairs.  He  even  counted  them ; 
for  his  sense  of  hearing  seemed  to  have  gained  ten-fold 
acuteness ;  but  at  last  she  was  out  of  hearing,  and  he  had 
nothing  left  but  his  own  thoughts.  Still  he  remained  in  the 
same  posture  of  intense  attention  ;  but  the  words  which 
dropped  from  his  lips  showed  that  his  mind  was  running  on 
the  one  engrossing  scheme  of  his  present  life. 

'  Fool !  dolt  that  I  was,  to  have  committed  such  a  short 
sighted  blunder !  Why,  the  veriest  ass  that  knocks  his  head 
against  a  law-book,  and  calls  himself  a  lawyer,  could  not 
have  made  a  fouler  one.  To  be  balked  too  by  a  girl ;  a  mere 
girl,  like  she  whom  that  old  man  has  left  behind  him  !  To 
see  her  in  possession  of  his  property  !  and  myself — where  ? 
God  only  knows  !  And  all  by  my  own  cursed  folly  !  It 
will  drive  me  mad  ! ' 

The  attorney  fairly  gnashed  his  teeth,  as  he  strode  up  and 
down  the  room,  after  this  last  out-break  of  chagrin. 

She  would  have  me  grovelling  in  the  very  dust ;  crushed, 
blasted  ;  a  thing  for  the  world  to  hiss  at ;  my  name  a  by 
word  for  all  that  is  vile  and  hateful ;  myself  pointed  out  as 
the  plotting,  scheming,  shallow-headed  fool,  who  had  not 
brains  enough  to  outwit  a  girl  in  her  teens  !  Pah  !  it  sickens 
me!' 

For  a  long  time  Bolton  paced  that  room,  scourged  by  the 
demons  which  his  own  fears  had  raised  ;  and  then  he  set  to 
12* 


274  THE    ATTORNEY. 

work  to  see  if  there  was  no  escape  from  the  evil  which 
threatened  him. 

The  fact  which  Lucy  had  communicated,  and  which  had 
so  startled  him,  that  in  the  first  moment  of  apprehension  he 
had  betrayed  himself,  was  this  :  The  Will  was  dated  on  the 
tenth  of  August ;  and  of  course  purported,  unless  the  con 
trary  were  shown,  to  be  executed  on  the  same  day.  But 
during  the  whole  of  that  month,  both  Higgs  and  Wilkins 
were  absent  from  the  city,  and  consequently  could  not  have 
witnessed  its  execution. 

*  It 's  too  late  to  alter  the  date,'  muttered  Bolton ;  *  for  that 
is  already  known.  They  must  swear  that  it  was  signed  on 
some  other  day  ;  and  we  '11  contrive  some  way  to  account 
for  the  discrepancy  between  the  date  and  execution.  Such 
a  variation,  with  a  plausible  reason  for  it,  will  not  affect  the 
validity  of  the  Will.' 

He  went  to  a  shelf,  took  down  a  number  of  books,  turned 
over  the  leaves  of  several  of  them,  and  was  soon  engrossed 
in  deep  study.  '  I  'm  safe  on  that  point,'  said  he  at  last, 
throwing  the  book  from  him ;  but  even  as  he  spoke,  the  color 
fled  from  his  cheek,  and  his  look  of  satisfaction  was  succeeded 
by  one  of  the  most  sickening  fear.  He  muttered  in  a 
whisper  so  low  that  he  seemed  almost  afraid  to  breathe  it 
to  himself :  '  Can  I  have  told  any  one  that  it  was  executed 
on  the  tenth  of  August  ?  If  so,  God  help  me,  or  I'm  lost !' 

It  was  a  strange  appeal,  from  such  a  man,  in  such  a  cause. 
Every  conversation  which  he  had  ever  had  respecting  that 
Will  returned  to  his  memory,  as  clearly  and  distinctly  as  if 
it  had  taken  place  but  an  hour  before.  Many  had  spoken 
to  him  about  it,  for  it  was  noised  abroad  that  the  rich  Mr. 
Crawford  had  disinherited  his  only  child  to  give  his  property 
to  a  stranger.  The  world  had  its  say  ;  and  people  shrugged 
their  shoulders,  and  shook  their  heads ;  but  the  attorney  was 


THE    ATTORNEY.  275 

a  man  whom  few  liked  to  grapple  with  ;  so  they  kept  their 
thoughts  to  themselves. 

Every  word,  every  person  who  had  ever  alluded  to  this 
matter  with  him,  the  lawyer  heard  and  saw  in  his  mind  as 
palpably  as  if  each  were  standing  before  him,  flesh,  bone, 
and  blood.  Some  had  jested  with  him  ;  some  had  congra 
tulated  him ;  and  not  a  few  had  listened  to  his  tale  with 
down-cast  eyes,  and  had  left  him  without  a  word.  He  was 
surprised  that  every  thing  presented  itself  to  him  so  dis 
tinctly  ;  for  trifles  hitherto  unheeded  sprang  up,  like  phan 
toms  of  the  dead  from  burial-places  where  they  had  long 
lain  forgotten. 

He  had  said  much  which  it  would  have  been  better  for 
his  cause  that  he  should  never  have  uttered ;  but  he  had  not 
thought  so  at  the  time  ;  for  he  had  resolved  to  show  no  ap 
prehension  on  the  subject  of  the  Will ;  and  although  he 
never  introduced  it,  he  never  shrank  from  it  when  others  did. 
He  remembered  too  that  he  had  mentioned  the  fact  which  he 
so  much  dreaded  to  several ;  but  he  had  done  it  in  a  casual 
manner  ;  and  he  hoped  that  it  was  forgotten  by  them.  The 
only  time  that  he  had  boldly  and  unequivocally  asserted  it 
was  on  the  night  that  he  produced  the  Will  at  Miss  Craw 
ford's  house.  None  were  present  then  except  herself  and 
Lucy.  The  first  could  not  be  a  witness ;  the  last  would 
not,  lest  she  might  blast  the  character  of  her  husband. 
Then  he  remembered  what  he  had  just  told  her  re 
specting  Wilkins's  intentions  toward  her ;  and  a  fear 
crossed  him,  that  this  might  change  her  love  of  her  husband 
into  hate.  If  so,  and  she  appeared  as  a  witness,  and  told 
what  she  knew,  and  what  she  had  that  day  seen  and  heard, 
he  felt  that  his  ruin  was  certain.  But  that  was  a  risk  which 
could  not  be  avoided.  All  others  could  ;  and  he  determined 
to  shut  his  eyes  to  his  danger,  and  to  apply  himself  to  guard 


276  THE    ATTORNEY. 

those  points  which  could  be  defended.  It  is  scarcely  neces 
sary  to  trace  his  course,  or  to  detail  particularly  the  nature 
of  the  conferences  which  he  had  with  Higgs  and  Wilkins, 
in  arranging  his  plans. 

Before  the  day  for  proving  the  Will  arrived,  he  received 
a  notice  that  Mr.  Fisk  had  been  retained  as  proctor  on  the 
part  of  Miss  Crawford.  Unwilling  to  trust  to  himself  alone, 
in  a  matter  where  he  ran  so  much  risk,  he  engaged  the 
professional  services  of  Mr.  Whitman,  a  man  of  eminent 
legal  abilities,  and  of  unimpeachable  integrity.  There  was 
policy  in  this ;  for  Bolton,  although  reckless  and  unprinci 
pled,  knew  full  well  the  influence  which  a  fair  name  has 
with  the  world,  and  that  the  very  fact  of  having  such  a  man 
as  Whitman  enlisted  on  his  side  would  tell  strongly  in  his 
favor.  He  fabricated  a  specious  tale  of  his  case,  which  com 
pletely  enlisted  the  legal  sympathies  of  the  lawyer,  who, 
although  he  might  have  regretted  that  a  young  girl  had 
been  stripped  to  enrich  a  man  like  Bolton,  still  felt  that 
Bolton  had  rights  which  ought  to  be  protected.  All  that 
his  case  admitted  of,  Bolton  had  done  ;  and  he  now  awaited 
the  result  with  a  degree  of  calmness  in  which  there  was  a 
strong  mixture  of  desperation. 

The  day  appointed  for  the  trial  at  last  arrived.  It  was  a 
bright  morning,  and  all  the  world  which  thronged  the  streets 
seemed  gay  and  glad ;  far  unlike  the  gaunt,  spectre-like  man 
who  sat  in  the  back  office  of  the  crumbling  house  already 
so  often  mentioned.  Mental  anxiety  had  done  its  work  on 
the  attorney.  Thin  he  always  was ;  but  he  had  become  so 
meagre  and  lank,  that  his  flesh  seemed  to  have  been  starved 
away,  until  his  skin  covered  only  a  skeleton.  Although 
there  was  a  daring  concentration  of  purpose  in  the  burning 
eyes  which  glared  from  beneath  his  black  brows,  yet  on  that 
day,  at  intervals,  a  feeling  of  terror,  the  most  abject  and 


THE    ATTORNEY.  277 

paralyzing,  overwhelmed  him,  crushing  him  to  the  very 
earth,  and  sweeping  before  it  every  trace  of  hope  and  reso 
lution.  The  next  moment  came  a  reaction ;  and  he  sprang 
up,  erect ;  his  eyes  flashing,  his  brow  knit,  and  undaunted 
in  purpose.  After  one  of  these  fits  of  temporary  weakness, 
he  walked  up  and  down  the  room  until  he  was  perfectly 
calm.  He  stopped  and  laid  his  hand  on  his  heart.  Its  pul 
sations  were  slow  and  regular.  He  took  up  a  small  looking- 
glass  which  hung  in  a  corner,  and  examined  his  own  face. 
It  was  wasted,  and  even  ghastly.  He  looked  into  his  eyes, 
and  smiled.  '  No  cowardice  there  at  least ! '  said  he.  He 
was  never  more  collected.  He  turned  over  his  papers,  ex 
amined  them,  ran  his  eye  over  some  relating  to  other  mat 
ters  than  the  Will ;  paused  to  correct  them ;  made  a  few 
trifling  alterations  in  the  punctuation ;  and  then  carefully 
tied  them  up  and  laid  them  on  the  table.  There  was  a  speck 
of  dust  on  his  coat.  He  got  up,  reached  a  brush  and 
brushed  it  off.  He  was  surprised  at  his  own  composure ;  for 
he  felt  that  it  certainly  was  a  most  momentous  day  for  him. 
At  times  his  mind  wandered  off ;  but  he  felt  no  alarm  ;  for  he 
was  thinking  of  things  far  away.  There  was  a  glass  of  water 
on  the  table  ;  and  he  caught  himself  shaking  it,  and  watching 
the  wizard  circles  made  by  its  reflection  on  the  ceiling.  He 
wished  that  the  hour  for  proving  the  Will  would  come.  He 
threw  himself  back  in  his  chair,  and  drew  out  his  watch.  Ten 
o'clock  was  the  appointed  time,  and  it  was  now  but  nine.  The 
minutes  lagged  heavily  until  half-past  nine,  and  then  Higgs 
and  Wilkins  made  their  appearance.  He  had  already 
drilled  them  in  their  parts  so  that  there  was  nothing  to  be 
done.  He  conversed  with  them  on  indifferent  subjects  while 
he  was  putting  on  his  hat  and  coat.  He  felt  uncommonly 
merry,  and  jested  as  they  went  into  the  street.  The  matter- 
of-fact  appearance  of  every  thing  there,  however,  gradually 


278  THE    ATTORNEY. 

recalled  him  to  a  more  natural  state  of  feeling.  His  apathy 
wore  off;  his  mind  recovered  a  more  healthful  though  a  less 
comfortable  tone  ;  and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  deep  anxiety 
that  he  found  himself  in  the  Surrogate's  office. 

The  office  consisted  of  two  rooms,  with  thick,  massive 
walls,  communicating  by  a  small  door.  The  floor  was  of 
stone,  scantily  covered  with  straw  matting.  On  shelves 
against  the  wall  were  rows  of  heavy  volumes,  in  which  were 
registered  the  last  wishes  of  thousands  who  had  long  since 
died  and  were  forgotten.  Documents  of  various  kinds  — 
bonds,  blank  letters  of  administration,  old  Wills,  and  frag 
ments  of  paper,  were  scattered  over  the  desks  and  tables,  at 
one  of  which  sat  an  old  man  in  spectacles,  with  a  frizzled 
wig,  copying  a  ragged  Will  in  a  large  book  with  a  red  cover. 
As  they  entered,  he  rubbed  his  eye  with  the  knuckle  of  his 
fore-finger,  at  the  same  time  opening  his  mouth  to  facilitate 
the  operation,  and  took  no  further  notice  of  them  than  to 
point  with  the  feather-end  of  his  quill  to  the  inner  office,  in 
which  a  number  of  persons  were  already  collected.  In  the 
middle  of  this  room  was  a  round  table  covered  with  green 
baize,  with  a  smaller  table  behind  it,  at  which  table  sat  Mr. 
Jagger,  the  Surrogate.  He  was  a  short,  fat  man,  with  a  bald 
head  and  a  beetle-brow,  beneath  which  glowed  a  pair  of 
red-rimmed,  wrathful  eyes,  that  seemed  to  nourish  a  grudge 
against  every  one,  and  dead  men  in  particular. 

Bolton  arrived  before  the  time  ;  yet  he  had  scarcely  en 
tered  the  office,  when  his  proctor  made  his  appearance.  He 
was  a  tall  man,  with  a  dark,  cadaverous  face,  and  loosely 
made,  as  if  hung  together  at  the  joints  with  hooks-and-eyes. 
He  had  a  nervous  habit  of  twitching  at  his  watch-chain 
when  much  excited,  and  of  gnawing  the  end  of  his  quill. 
He  was  constitutionally  irritable  ;  but  had  his  temper  so 
much  under  control  that  at  a  trial  of  a  cause  few  would 


THE    ATTORNEY.  279 

have  perceived  this  failing ;  although  an  unlucky  witness, 
during  his  cross-examinations,  would  occasionally  find  the 
air  of  a  court-room  very  oppressive,  and  extremely  conducive 
to  profuse  perspiration.  But  with  all  his  irritability,  he  was 
a  good-hearted  man,  and  rigidly  correct  in  conduct. 

He  walked  quietly  across  the  room,  bowed  to  the  Surro 
gate,  and  taking  a  seat  in  one  corner,  thrust  his  hand  in  a 
pocket  of  immeasurable  depth,  and  drew  out  a  bundle  of 
papers  secured  together  with  red  tape.  Untying  these,  he 
carefully  selected  one,  and  commenced  reading,  taking  no 
further  notice  of  any  one. 

As  it  approached  the  hour  of  ten,  Bolton  became  more 
restless.  He  got  up,  walked  to  and  fro,  stopped  suddenly, 
took  out  his  papers,  fingered  them  over,  as  if  looking  for  a 
particular  one  ;  then  laid  them  down,  without  having  seen 
one  of  them,  and  crossed  over  to  where  Mr.  Whitman  was 
sitting,  whispered  a  joke  in  his  ear,  laughed  loudly,  and 
turned  suddenly  away  and  took  a  seat.  Mr.  Whitman 
looked  at  him  sternly  and  inquisitively.  He  liked  not  the 
man  ;  but  he  supposed  his  cause  to  be  legally  a  just  one, 
and  therefore  waived  all  personal  feeling.  There  was  some 
thing  strange  in  the  manner  of  Bolton ;  but  he  knew  that 
he  had  much  at  stake,  and  attributed  his  eccentricity  to  that. 
After  staring  at  him  for  a  moment  or  two,  he  again  turned 
to  his  papers. 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Rawley  walked  in, 
and  close  at  his  heels  stalked  Bitters.  Both  seated  them 
selves  ;  the  one  on  a  chair,  the  other  on  end  directly  in  front 
of  the  Surrogate.  Mr.  Jagger  looked  at  the  dog  with  the 
solemn  eye  of  a  surrogate,  and  shook  his  head  as  only  a 
surrogate  can  shake  it. 

'Are  you  one  of  the  witnesses  ? '  inquired  he  of  the  dog's 
master. 


280  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1 1  am,  Sir,'  replied  Mr.  Rawley.  '  I  was  subpoenaed  to 
testify ;  and  here's  the  document.'  As  he  spoke,  he  laid 
upon  the  table  a  paper  which,  from  having  been  several  day? 
in  that  gentleman's  pocket,  had  faded  from  white  into  a 
snuff-color,  and  was  particularly  crumpled. 

*  What 's  that  animal  doing  here  1 '  demanded  the  Surro 
gate. 

'  He  has  n't  had  time  to  do  any  thing,'  replied  Mr.  Rawley 
'  He  comes  when  I  come.  He  goes  when  I  goes.  He  's  * 
peeler.' 

1  The  animal  must  leave  the 'court.  It 's  contempt  of  courl 
to  bring  him  here,'  said  Mr.  Jagger,  angrily.  '  Remove  him 
instantly.' 

Mr.  Rawley  had  frequently  been  in  attendance  at  the 
police  courts,  and  once  or  twice  had  had  a  slight  taste  of  the 
Sessions ;  so  that  he  was  not  as  much  struck  with  the  Sur 
rogate  as  he  otherwise  might  have  been  ;  and  he  replied  : 

*  I  make  no  opposition,  Sir  ;  and  shall  not  move  a  finger 
to  perwent  it.     There's  the  animal;    and   any  officer   as 
pleases  may  remove  him.     I  say  nuffin'  ag'in  it.     I  knows 
what  a  contempt  of  court  is ;  and  that  a'  n't  one.'     And  Mr. 
Rawley  threw  himself  amiably  back  in  his  chair. 

'  Mr.  Slagg  ! '  said  the  Surrogate  to  the  man  with  a  frizzled 
wig,  '  remove  the  dog.' 

Mr.  Slagg  laid  down  his  pen,  took  off  his  spectacles,  went 
up  to  the  dog  and  told  him  to  get  out ;  to  which  Bitters 
replied  by  snapping  at  his  fingers,  as  he  attempted  to  touch 
him.  Mr.  Rawley  was  staring  abstractedly  out  of  the  win 
dow.  The  dog  looked  up  at  him  for  instructions  ;  and  re 
ceiving  none,  supposed  that  snapping  at  a  scrivener's  fingers 
was  perfectly  correct,  and  resumed  his  pleasant  expression 
toward  that  functionary,  occasionally  casting  a  lowering  eye 
at  the  Surrogate,  as  if  deliberating  whether  to  include  him 
in  his  demonstrations  of  anger. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  281 

4  Slagg,  have  you  removed  the  dog  ? '  said  Mr.  Jagger, 
who,  the  dog  being  under  his  very  nose,  saw  that  he  had 
not. 

'  No,  Sir.     He  resists  the  court,'  replied  Mr.  Slagg. 

'  Call  Walker  to  assist  you,'  said  Mr.  Jagger,  sternly. 

Walker,  a  small  man  in  drabs,  had  anticipated  something 
of  the  kind,  and  had  accidentally  withdrawn  as  soon  as  he 
saw  that  there  was  a  prospect  of  difficulty  ;  so  that  the  whole 
court  was  set  at  defiance  by  the  dog. 

*  Witness  ! '  said  Mr.  Jagger. 

'  Sir,'  exclaimed  a  thin  man  in  the  corner,  who  had  been 
subpoenaed,  to  his  own  great  terror,  and  who  at  that  parti 
cular  moment  had  an  idea  that  he  was  the  only  witness  in 
the  world  —  starting  to  his  feet,  under  the  vague  impression 
that  he  was  to  be  sworn  on  the  spot,  and  thoroughly  con 
vinced  that  testifying  and  committing  perjury  were  only  dif 
ferent  names  for  the  same  thing. 

'  Not  you  —  the  man  with  the  dog.' 

Mr.  Rawley  looked  the  court  full  in  the  face. 

'  Will  you  oblige  the  court  by  removing  that  animal  ? ' 
said  Mr.  Jagger,  mildly. 

'  Certingly,  Sir,'  said  Mr.  Rawley.  *  Bitters,  go  home.' 
Bitters  rose  stiffly  and  went  out,  first  casting  a  glance  at  the 
man  with  a  wig,  for  the  purpose  of  being  able  to  identify  him 
on  some  future  occasion ;  and  having  comforted  himself  by 
a  violent  onslaught  upon  a  small  dog  belonging  to  the  Sur 
rogate,  whom  he  encountered  in  the  entry,  was  seen  from 
the  window  walking  up  the  street  with  the  most  profound 
gravity. 

This  matter  being  disposed  of,  the  court  scratched  its  nose 
with  the  end  of  a  pen,  and  looked  impatiently  at  a  clock 
\yhich  hung  over  the  door,  as  much  as  to  ask  how  it  dared 
to  keep  a  surrogate  waiting.  At  last  he  said : 


282  THE    ATTORNEY. 

*  Mr.  Whitman,  do  you  know  whether  Mr.  Fisk  ever  in 
tends  to  come  ? ' 

'  I  presume  he  does,'  replied  Mr.  Whitman.  '  It 's  not 
time  yet ; '  and  without  further  reply  he  went  on  reading, 
while  the  Surrogate  looked  out  of  the  window. 

A  slight  beckoning  motion  of  Higgs  at  that  moment 
brought  Bolton  to  his  side. 

*  What 's  the  meaning  of  that  fellow  's  being  here  ? '  said 
he,  indicating,  by  a  scarcely  perceptible  jerk  of  the  head, 
Mr.  Rawley,  who  sat  watching  Mr.  Whitman  with  a  look  of 
mysterious  import.     *  I  do  n't  want  him  here.     It  bodes  us 
no  good.' 

'  Who  is  he  ? '  inquired  the  lawyer,  nervously. 

'Rawley,'  replied  Higgs,  bluntly.  lHe  knows  us.  Till 
within  a  week  or  two,  we  've  been  at  his  place  daily.  He 
can  tell  a  good  deal  that  I  'd  like  to  have  kept  close.' 

Bolton  attempted  to  smile,  but  his  lip  quivered  and 
twitched. 

'  Be  a  man !  will  you  ? '  muttered  Higgs,  savagely.  *  No 
nonsense  now.  If  you  betray  us,  you  '11  have  to  reckon  with 
me.  Your  lawyer  's  looking  at  you  ;  and  you  say  he  's  not 
in  the  plot.  I  believe  he  half  suspects  something  wrong.' 

A  glance  showed  Bolton  that  although  Mr.  Whitman 
seemed  engaged  in  perusing  the  paper  which  he  held  in  his 
hand,  he  was  in  reality  watching  him.  He  muttered  a  few  in 
coherent  words  to  Higgs,  and  walked  off  with  a  loud  laugh. 
As  he  did  so,  he  met  Mr.  Fisk,  who  at  that  moment  entered 
the  office  with  Mr.  Cutbill  at  his  heels,  carrying  two  law- 
books  under  his  arm  and  a  pen  over  his  ear.  Mr.  Fisk 
glanced  at  Bolton,  and  passed  on  without  speaking  to  him  ; 
and  so  did  Mr.  Cutbill.  Mr.  Fisk  nodded  to  the  Surrogate, 
who  answered  it  by  an  inclination  of  the  head ;  and  Mr. 
Cutbill,  being  in  doubt  whether  he  might  venture  on  the 


THE    ATTORNEY.  283 

same  familiarity  with  a  surrogate,  bowed  to  the  man  with  a 
frizzled  wig.  Mr.  Fisk  placed  his  hat  on  the  table,  and 
threw  in  it  a  bundle  of  papers  which  he  had  in  his  hand, 
and  then  nodded  to  Mr.  Rawley.  Mr.  Cutbill  thereupon 
placed  his  hat  on  the  table ;  laid  his  two  law-books  by  the 
side  of  it,  and  advanced  and  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Rawley 
sociably ;  and  finding  that  Mr.  Fisk  had  seated  himself,  he 
immediately  followed  his  example. 

*  If  you  are  ready,  gentlemen,  we  will  proceed,'  said  Mr 
Jagger. 

'  I  am  ready,  Sir,'  said  Mr.  Fisk,  untying  his  papers  and 
spreading  them  on  the  table.  Mr.  Cutbill  forthwith  made 
three  pens,  tore  several  sheets  of  paper  in  halves,  and  pre 
pared  to  take  voluminous  notes.  Mr.  Whitman,  after  look 
ing  over  a  paper  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  rose  and  said  that 
he  appeared  on  the  part  of  Reuben  Bolton,  to  ask  that  the 
last  Will  and  testament  of  John  Crawford,  late  of  this  city, 
deceased,  be  admitted  to  probate,  and  letters  testamentary 
granted  to  him,  as  the  executor  named  in  it.  The  proper 
order,  he  said,  had  already  been  entered,  on  a  petition  here 
tofore  made  by  the  executor,  who  at  that  time  had  furnished 
due  proof  of  the  death  of  the  testator.  The  testator,  he  con 
tinued,  had  left  but  one  child,  a  daughter,  surviving  him ; 
who  could  properly  come  neither  under  the  head  of  heir-at- 
law  nor  next  of  kin,  she  being  illegitimate.  A  citation  had 
nevertheless  been  served  on  her,  notifying  her  of  the  time 
appointed  for  probate  of  the  Will ;  so  that  she  might  appear 
in  court  and  make  any  opposition  which  she  thought  fit.  He 
understood  that  it  was  her  intention  to  resist  this  application 
of  the  executor ;  but  of  the  position  assumed  by  her  in  such 
opposition  he  was  ignorant.  He  would  proceed  to  prove  due 
service  of  the  summons,  and  would  then  produce  witnesses 
to  show  the  execution  of  the  Will. 


284  THE    ATTORNEY. 

He  read  an  affidavit,  proving  the  service  of  the  sum 
mons,  and  sat  down,  and  after  whispering  a  few  moments 
with  Bolton,  who  was  seated  at  his  elbow,  called  William 
Higgs. 

It  was  a  moment  of  intense  anxiety  to  Bolton,  as  Higgs 
took  his  stand.  He  fixed  a  keen  eye  on  him,  as  the  oath 
was  administered.  But  there  was  nothing  to  fear ;  for  Higgs 
was  a  man  whose  nerves  were  of  iron ;  and  of  the  two,  the 
attorney  was  the  most  agitated.  Higgs  seemed  to  be  of  the 
same  opinion ;  for  as  his  eye  wandered  around  the  room,  it 
fell  on  that  of  Bolton  with  a  look  full  of  stern  warning  and 
menace.  It  was  but  a  glance;  the  next  instant  it  was 
gone.  But  the  attorney  understood  it;  and  leaning  his 
head  forward,  to  hide  his  face,  he  pretended  to  be  engaged 
in  reading. 

'  What 's  your  name  ? '  asked  Mr.  Jagger,  drawing  a 
sheet  of  paper  to  him,  and  dipping  his  pen  in  a  large  stone 
inkstand. 

*  William  Higgs,'  replied  the  witness. 

The  Surrogate  wrote  it  down.     '  Gentlemen,  proceed.' 

Mr.  Whitman  rose,  and  taking  the  Will,  unfolded  it  and 
placed  it  in  Higgs's  hands.  He  then  walked  deliberately 
back  to  his  seat,  put  on  his  spectacles,  took  up  a  pen,  and 
prepared  to  make  notes  of  the  answers  of  the  witness. 

'In  whose  handwriting  is  the  second  signature  to  the 
attestation  clause  of  that  Will,  and  by  whom  was  it  put 
there  ? '  said  he. 

'  It  is  mine,  and  I  wrote  it,'  replied  Higgs. 

'  On  what  occasion  ? '  asked  Mr.  Whitman,  without  raising 
his  eyes  from  the  paper  on  which  he  was  writing. 

'At  the  time  that  the  Will  was  signed  by  Mr.  Crawford,' 
replied  Higgs,  in  a  firm,  clear  voice. 

'Be  good  enough  to  state  to  the  court  the  manner  in 


THE    ATTORNEY.  285 

which  it  was  executed,  and  how  you  came  to  attest  it.   Speak 
louder.' 

Higgs  paused  a  moment,  and  then  stated  that  he  together 
with  Wilkins  had  gone  to  the  office  of  Bolton  to  transact 
some  business  of  their  own.  On  arriving  there,  they  found  Mr. 
Crawford  also  there  with  Bolton.  He  was  reading  a  paper 
which  he  afterwards  informed  them  was  his  Will.  When  he 
had  completed  the  perusal  of  it,  he  was  desirous  of  executing 
it  on  the  spot,  and  proposed  to  Wilkins  anci  himself  to  be 
come  the  witnesses  to  its  execution.  On  their  assenting,  he 
declared  it  to  be  his  last  Will  and  testament,  subscribing  it 
in  their  presence,  and  they  witnessed  it  in  his. 

'  Not  so  fast,'  interrupted  Mr.  Fisk,  who  was  taking  down 
the  testimony  as  rapidly  as  his  pen  could  fly  over  the  paper. 
'  Repeat  what  you  last  said.' 

Higgs  did  so. 

4  Very  well ;  go  on.' 

'  Were  you  acquainted  with  Mr.  Crawford  \ '  asked  Mr. 
Whitman. 

'  Very  slightly.  I  had  talked  with  him,  and  knew  him  to 
be  Mr.  Crawford.' 

*  Was  he  present  when  the  Will  was  attested  ? ' 

'  He  was.  He  held  the  paper  open  while  we  signed  it.' 
A  few  questions  were  asked  as  to  the  mental  capacity  of  the 
testator,  and  these  being  satisfactorily  answered,  Mr.  Whit 
man  paused,  leaned  his  head  on  his  hand,  and  whispered  a 
few  words  to  Bolton ;  after  which  he  said :  '  Mr.  Fisk,  the 
witness  is  yours.'  ' 

Mr.  Fisk  paused  to  nib  a  pen,  and  then,  with  a  pleasant 
smile  on  his  face,  and  in  a  quiet,  friendly  tone,  inquired  : 

'  What 's  your  age  ? ' 

'  About  forty.' 

'  Where  do  you  reside  ? ' 


286  THE    ATTORNEY. 

4  In  this  city,'  replied  Mr.  Higgs. 
'  What 's  your  occupation  ? ' 

*  I  have  none  at  present.     I  'm  a  gentleman-at-large.' 

'A  very  pleasant  profession,'  said  Mr.'Fisk,  in  an  amiable 
tone.  '  When  did  you  first  begin  to  be  a  gentleman-at- 
large  ? ' 

4 1  have  always  been  one,'  returned  Higgs,  not  altogether 
seeing  the  dangerous  tendency  of  the  questions,  while  Bolton 
sat  upon  thorns,  vainly  endeavoring  to  catch  his  eye. 

'  I  suppose  you  have  property  ? ' 

*  I  'm  rather  snug  at  present ;  more  so  than  I  have  been. 
I  inherited  something  lately.' 

'  From  whom  ? '  demanded  Mr.  Fisk,  pausing  in  his  writing, 
and  looking  up ;  though  Mr.  Cutbill  did  not  for  a  moment 
suffer  his  pen  to  stop. 

'  From  a  deceased  uncle,'  replied  Higgs,  beginning  to  feel 
a  little  uneasy  at  the  turn  the  examination  was  taking. 

'  What  was  his  name  ? ' 

Higgs  hesitated,  but  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  He  saw 
the  half-triumphant  smile  of  Fisk,  and  his  hesitation  vanished. 

'  His  name  was  the  same  as  mine,  William  Higgs.' 

Mr.  Whitman  had  been  busy  whispering  with  Bolton, 
though  he  still  had  an  ear  open  to  the  cross-examination ; 
and  although  he  did  not  see  the  dangerous  bearing  of  it, 
owing  to  his  ignorance  of  the  facts  which  Fisk  had  learned, 
still  he  thought  it  time  to  check  it.  '  If  your  Honor  please,' 
said  he,  rising,  '  I  object  to  these  questions,  as  altogether 
irrelevant.  They  have  no  bearing  on  the  case,  and  only 
consume  the  time  of  the  court  and  counsel,  without  profiting 
any  one. 

Down  he  sat,  and  up  got  Mr.  Fisk.  *  The  counsel,'  he  said, 
*  was  as  well  aware  as  he  was  of  the  object  of  these  ques 
tions  ;  and  as  he  had  no  wish  to  let  the  witness  see  his  hand, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  287 

nor  to  place  him  on  his  guard,  he  hoped  that  the  court  would 
permit  him  to  continue  his  examination,  without  compelling 
him  to  state  its  immediate  object.  If  in  his  progress  he 
should  ask  any  thing  which  the  laws  of  evidence  prohibited, 
of  course  the  court  would  stop  him  ;  but  until  he  did  so,  he 
claimed  the  right  to  elicit  any  information  from  the  witness 
which  would  benefit  his  client.' 

Mr.  Whitman  rose  and  replied,  and  the  court  supported 
the  objection,  unless  Mr.  Fisk  would  state  the  object  of  the 
examination. 

Mr.  Fisk  said  that  it  was  his  intention  to  show  that  the 
witness  was  a  man  of  a  notoriously  infamous  character ;  that 
he  had  led  a  vagabond  life  for  many  years  past ;  that  he  had 
never  possessed,  nor  gained  by  his  own  industry,  nor  inherited, 
property  of  any  description  ;  and  that  all  his  means  of  sup 
port  were  derived  from  Bolton  ;  furnished  no  doubt  on  the 
understanding  that  he  was  to  lend  his  assistance  in  establish- 

O 

ing  this  Will.  That,  he  said,  had  been  the  object  of  his 
questions  ;  an  object  which,  now  that  he  had  been  compelled 
to  mention  it,  he  presumed  it  would  be  impossible  for  him 
to  attain  ;  as  the  witness,  being  warned,  would  be  careful  so 
to  frame  his  replies  as  to  baffle  all  farther  inquiries. 

He  sat  down,  dipped  his  pen  spitefully  in  the  inkstand, 
and  violently  assaulted  a  corn  on  Mr.  Cutbill's  left  foot  with 
the  heel  of  his  boot. 

The  Surrogate  rubbed  his  chin,  and  said  that  he  thought 
the  party  had  a  right  to  draw  from  the  witness  any  facts 
which  would  tend  to  show  what  credit  mip'ht  be  mven  to 

O  O 

his  testimony,  but  he  could  not  allow  the  wide  latitude  which 
the  examination  was  taking.  Mr.  Fisk  continued  his  ex 
amination  by  a  series  of  short  but  pertinent  inquiries, 
which,  had  they  been  answered  as  he  wished,  would  have 
gone  far  to  shake  the  credibility  of  Higgs.  But  that  gentle- 


288  THE    ATTORNEY. 

man  was  on  his  guard  ;  and  although  the  skilful  attorney 
varied  his  mode  of  attack  and  shifted  his  ground,  and  from 
time  to  time  returned  and  renewed  his  efforts  unexpectedly 
on  various  points  where  he  thought  the  witness  was  most 
assailable,  he  was  still  completely  baffled ;  for  Higgs's  resources 
increased  with  his  risk  ;  and  he  fabricated  with  a  facility  and 
ingenuity  which  were  truly  wonderful.  At  length  Mr.  Fisk 
turned  to  him,  and  looking  him  steadily  in  the  face,  de 
manded  : 

*  Have  you  at  any  time  received  money  from  Mr.  Bolton  ? ' 
Up  got  Mr.  Whitman.     '  I  object,'  said  he.     '  Suppose  he 

has  received  money  from  Mr.  Bolton,  what  then  ?  He  has 
a  right  to,  I  suppose.  If  the  gentleman  means  to  ask  if  the 
witness  has  been  bribed  to  testify,  let  him  put  his  question 
in  that  shape ;  then  we  can  understand  him.' 

'  Be  it  so,'  said  Mr.  Fisk.  '  Did  you  receive  a  check  from 
Mr.  Bolton  recently  ? ' 

*  No  ! '  replied  Higgs,  bluntly. 
4  Are  you  positive  ? ' 

« I  am.' 

'  What  is  that  ? '  asked  Mr.  Fisk,  extending  toward  him  a 
paid  check,  the  very  one  which  Bolton  had  given  him,  and 
which  he  had  got  cashed  at  the  bank.  *  Have  you  ever  seen 
that  before  ? ' 

'  I  have,'  replied  Higgs,  with  unruffled  composure. 

*  Did  you  get  the  money  for  it  ? ' 

'  I  did,'  said  he,  without  looking  at  Bolton,  who  sat  with 
a  blanched  face,  and  the  perspiration  standing  on  his  fore 
head.  '  I  was  going  to  the  lower  part  of  the  city ;  Mr. 
Bolton  wanted  some  money,  and  asked  me  as  I  passed  the 
bank  to  get  the  check  cashed  for  him.  I  did  so,  and  handed 
the  money  to  him.' 

Bolton  drew  a  long  breath,  like  a  man  suddenly  relieved 


THE    ATTORNEY.  289 

from  some  great  pressure,  as  Higgs  gave  this  plausible 
reply. 

Fisk  cross-examined  him  severely ;  but  he  drew  nothing 
from  him.  He  then  took  up  the  cross-examination  as  to  the 
Will. 

'  Were  you  present  at  the  execution  of  that  Will  ? '  in 
quired  he. 

'  I  was.' 

'  Who  signed  it  ? ' 

*  Mr.  Crawford,  the  testator.' 

'  When  was  it  ? ' 

1  Sometime  in  the  month  of  September  last.  I  do  n't  re 
collect  the  day.' 

Mr.  Fisk's  countenance  fell,  and  Mr.  Cutbill  looked  abso 
lutely  miserable. 

'Are  you  sure  that  it  was  in  September  ? '  asked  Fisk, 
going  on  with  his  notes  ;  although  it  was  a  moment  of  in 
tense  anxiety. 


*  I  am.' 


Fisk  rose  and  took  the  Will  from  the  witness. 

'  The  Will  is  dated  August  10th,  and  purports  to  be  ex 
ecuted  on  that  day,'  said  he,  handing  it  to  the  Surrogate. 
'  Here 's  a  strange  discrepancy  between  the  date  and  execu 
tion.' 

'How  do  you  account  for  that,  Sir?'  said  Mr.  Jagger, 
looking  very  profoundly  at  him. 

'  I  do  n't  pretend  to  account  for  it,'  replied  Higgs.  'All  I 
know  is,  that  I  put  my  signature  to  that  paper  at  the  request 
of  Mr.  Crawford,  and  it  must  have  been  in  September ;  for 
Mr.  Wilkins  and  myself  were  both  absent  from  the  city 
during  the  month  of  August,  and  did  not  return  until  Sep 
tember.  It  was  shortly  after  our  return.  I  think  within  a 
week.  I  can't  swear  to  the  day  of  the  month  ;  but  it  was 
13 


290  THE    ATTORNEY. 

from  the  fifth  to  the  tenth  of  September.  If  that  Will 
states  that  we  witnessed  it  in  August,  it 's  wrong.' 

There  was  a  look  of  triumph  on  the  face  of  Bolton  when 
Fisk,  after  a  long  and  fruitless  cross-examination,  told  the 
witness  that  he  might  go.  Mr.  Whitman  then  called  George 
Wilkins. 

His  testimony  was  substantially  the  same  as  that  of  Higgs. 
He  was  blunt  and  even  savage  in  his  manner ;  but  his  testi 
mony  was  direct  and  clear ;  and  when  examined  as  to  the 
date  of  the  execution  of  the  Will,  he  swore  positively  that 
it  was  on  the  fifth  or  sixth  of  September,  he  did  not  recol 
lect  which ;  but  that  he  was  sure  it  was  one  or  the  other. 
He  was  present ;  knew  Mr.  Crawford,  and  saw  him  sign  the 
paper.  It  was  in  Bolton's  office.  He  also  swore  to  the 
capacity  of  the  testator. 

'  We  have  done  with  the  witness,'  said  Whitman,  leaning 
back  in  his  chair. 

Again  Fisk  tried  cross-examining ;  but  at  last  he  threw 
down  his  pen,  having  exhausted  every  effort  to  impair  his 
testimony,  without  success.  He  felt  that  the  day  was  against 
him.  His  manner  was  unconstrained  ;  his  smile  pleasant ; 
but  both  of  the  lawyers  opposed  to  him  were  too  well  ac 
quainted  with  him  not  to  be  satisfied  that  he  was  greatly 
disappointed,  as  he  dismissed  the  witness. 

Probate  of  the  Will  was  then  requested ;  but  Mr.  Fisk 
mentioned  that  it  was  his  intention  to  produce  witnesses  on 
the  part  of  the  heir-at-law,  and  the  Surrogate  declined  giv 
ing  a  decision  until  they  had  been  heard. 

The  whole  morning  had  been  consumed  in  the  examina 
tion  of  Higgs  and  Wilkins,  and  in  skirmishes  between  the 
lawyers  as  to  points  of  law  and  the  admissibility  of  evidence, 
the  detail  of  which  has  been  in  a  great  measure  omitted. 
As  soon  as  they  had  got  through,  Mr.  Jagger  drew  out  a  large 


THE    ATTORNEY.  291 

watch,  looked  at  the  hour,  compared  it  with  the  clock  over 
the  door,  held  it  to  his  ear,  adjourned  the  court  for  two  hours, 
and  without  the  loss  of  time  jumped  up,  put  on  his  hat,  and 
walked  directly  out  of  the  office,  looking  neither  to  the  right 
nor  left,  and  speaking  to  no  one. 

His  example  was  followed  by  the  others,  who  gradually 
dropped  off,  until  the  man  in  the  frizzled  wig,  who  was 
quietly  slumbering  behind  his  spectacles,  with  his  pen  in  his 
hand,  and  a  large  blot  on  the  page  to  mark  the  spot  where 
he  had  intermitted  his  labors,  was  the  sole  occupant  of  the 
office. 


292  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE  interval  of  adjournment  was  passed  by  the  attorney 
and  his  two  confederates  in  Bolton's  office.  The  long-legged 
clerk  was  sent  off  on  some  unimportant  errand,  to  get  him 
out  of  the  way ;  for  many  matters  were  to  be  discussed 
which  the  attorney  thought  it  wise  to  keep  from  his  ears. 

The  haggard,  unnatural  look  which  during  the  early  part 
of  the  day  had  pinched  his  face  almost  out  of  human  sem 
blance  was  succeeded  by  one  of  high  excitement ;  for  the 
trial  thus  far  had  gone  off  well ;  and  he  was  proportionably 
sanguine.  Higgs  seemed  to  participate  in  his  feelings,  and 
gave  vent  to  a  variety  of  demonstrations  of  satisfaction 
which  were  peculiar  to  himself ;  such  as  throwing  his  hat 
with  great  violence  across  the  room  ;  waving  his  hands  in 
divers  hitherto  unheard-of  and  fantastic  manners,  and  whis 
tling  with  tremendous  force.  But  Wilkins,  from  the  time 
that  he  had  delivered  his  testimony,  had  become  moody  and 
sullen,  taking  no  share  in  the  conversation,  and  scarcely 
deigning  to  answer  when  spoken  to. 

'We  managed  it  well,'  said  the  attorney,  rubbing  his 
hands  together  with  an  appearance  of  keen  satisfaction. 
'  We  shall  beat  them.  Fisk  has  given  up.  His  looks  show  it.' 

Wilkins  raked  his  eyes  from  the  floor,  which  he  had  been 
contemplating,  and  said  in  a  gloomy  tone  :  '  You  '11  gain  your 
end  ;  and  to  help  you  do  it,  I  've  damned  myself,  body  and 
soul.  I  '11  never  hold  up  my  head  again.  It  is  the  first  time 
I  ever  committed  perjury.' 

Higgs  placed  his  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  said :  *  Pshaw  1 


THE    ATTORNEY.  293 

George,  do  n't  be  a  woman.  Think  of  the  twenty  thou 
sand.' 

'  I  do  think  of  it,'  answered  the  wretched  man  ;  '  and  I 
would  count  clown  every  dollar  of  it  on  this  very  spot,  to  the 
man  that  could  make  me  even  the  miserable  outcast  that  I 
was  before  I  crossed  the  threshold  of  that  office.  I  sha'  n't 
go  there  again.  The  air  of  that  blasted  room  chokes  me ;  and 
when  I  think  of  the  curse  that  I  have  drawn  down  upon 
myself,  and  see  those  big  books  on  the  shelves  about  its  walls, 
and  know  that  on  each  leaf  of  them  is  written  the  last 
wishes  of  a  man  who  was  once  living  like  myself,  but  has 
gone  to  his  last  account,  it  makes  me  shudder.  I  can't  go 
there  again.  It 's  torture.  I  won't !  —  I  swear  I  won't ! 
I  '11  keep  that  oath,  though  I  have  broken  another.' 

'  Well,  George,  I  did  not  expect  this  from  you,'  said  Higgs, 
taking  his  hand.  '  Why,  who  used  to  be  the  wildest  and 
most  daring  of  our  set  ?  Who  led  us  on  when  there  was 
mischief  in  the  wind  ?  Who  always  cheered  the  faint 
hearted  and  encouraged  the  hot-headed  ?  Who  but  you  ? 
My  dear  fellow,  don't  give  up  now!  All  looks  fair.  Don't 
it,  Bolton  ? ' 

'  Fairer  than  we  could  hope,'  replied  the  lawyer.  *  We 
must  win.  You  are  safe  ;  nor  is  it  necessary  that  you  should 
go  to  the  Surrogate's  office  again.  But  do  n't  lose  heart.' 

Wilkins  shook  his  head.  '  I  do  n't  know  how  it  is,'  said 
he,  '  but  I  am  as  frightened  as  a  child  to-day.  I  feel  as  if 
some  great  evil  was  hanging  over  me ;  and  I  think  that  at 
times  I  can  see  its  shadow ;  but  I  look  up,  and  nothing  is 
there  but  the  blue  sky.  I  know  that  it 's  all  fancy  —  a  kind 
of  dream  ;  and  I  try  to  shake  it  off ;  and  it  leaves  me  for  a 
time,  but  it  soon  comes  back.  I  hope  it 's  no  omen  of  evil. 
I  should  like  to  live  to  see  the  twenty  thousand.  I  Ve  done 
your  business,'  said  he  to  Bolton,  abruptly  ;  '  you  must  do 


294  THE    ATTORNEY. 

without  me  now ;  for  to  gain  the  half  of  this  city  I  would  n't 
go  into  that  room  and  swear  again  to  what  I  swore  this 
morning.' 

All  attempts  to  change  his  resolution  were  fruitless  :  and 
the  hour  to  which  the  court  had  adjourned  being  nigh  at 
hand,  they  left  him,  and  once  more  directed  their  steps  to 
the  Surrogate's  office. 

When  they  arrived  there,  the  room  was  filled  with  wit 
nesses,  and  with  those  whose  curiosity  had  led  them  thither. 
Among  the  last,  in  a  conspicuous  position,  sat  Mr.  Quagley, 
with  the  stunted  marker  at  his  side.  Presently  the  Surro 
gate  came  in,  hung  his  hat  on  a  peg,  and  took  his  scat.  In 
a  few  moments  Mr.  Cutbill  led  in  Mrs.  Dow,  who,  after 
courtesying  nervously  to  every  body,  and  growing  very  red 
in  the  face,  sat  down  and  smiled  incessantly,  as  if  she  wished 
to  impress  it  upon  those  present  that  she  considered  being 
subpoenaed  as  a  witness  one  of  the  most  agreeable  things  in 
the  world. 

Bolton  experienced  a  slight  feeling  of  trepidation  as  he 
ran  his  eye  over  the  array  of  witnesses  ;  but  more  particu 
larly  when  it  fell  on  a  man  with  white  hair,  who  was  sitting 
behind  the  rest,  with  his  chin  resting  on  his  hands,  which 
were  crossed  over  the  top  of  his  cane,  and  watching  those 
about  him  with  deep  interest.  It  was  the  old  witness.  Bol 
ton  felt  that  a  supporting  column  of  his  fabric  was  knocked 
away.  The  proof  of  the  legitimacy  of  Miss  Crawford  would 
throw  a  shadow  of  fraud  upon  the  Will  which  it  would  be 
difficult  to  remove.  Still  it  would  be  suspicion  only,  and 
the  Will  might  be  valid ;  but  would  the  court  so  decide  ? 
He  dared  not  answer  his  own  question  ;  and  he  sat  in  a 
dream-like  stupor,  paying  attention  to  nothing  until  Mr.  Fisk 
rose  to  speak. 

He  stated  briefly  that  he  appeared  there  to  contest  tho 


THE    ATTORNEY.  295 

instrument  offered  for  probate,  and  which  purported  to  be 
the  last  Will  and  testament  of  John  Crawford,  deceased,  on 
the  part  of  the  HEIR-AT-LAW.  As  he  said  this,  he  turned  and 
looked  significantly  at  Bolton.  He  said  that  he  would  prove 
beyond  a  doubt  the  marriage  of  Eliza  Jones  to  John  Craw 
ford,  and  the  subsequent  birth  of  a  daughter,  Helen  Craw 
ford,  who  was  the  party  opposing  the  Will.  He  would  also 
show  to  the  court  that  the  character  of  the  witnesses  to  that 
instrument  was  such  that  they  could  not  be  believed  under 
oath ;  that  they  were  men  whose  very  means  of  subsistence 
were  obtained  by  crime,  and  to  whose  testimony  no  weight 
whatever  could  be  attached.  Declarations  of  Reuben  Bolton 
as  to  the  time  of  the  execution  of  that  paper  would  also  be 
offered  in  evidence  ;  declarations  totally  at  variance  with  the 
sworn  evidence  of  the  witnesses,  who  by  their  own  account 
attested  the  paper  in  his  office  and  in  his  presence.  He 
would  also  offer  in  evidence  declarations  of  the  testator, 
made  shortly  previous  to  his  death,  and  since  the  time  at 
which  that  Will  was  pretended  to  have  been  executed,  that 
he  had  made  a  Will,  naming  his  daughter,  Helen  Crawford, 
therein  as  his  sole  devisee  ;  and  lastly,  he  would  show  that 
at  the  very  time  this  pretended  Will  was  sworn  to  have  been 
subscribed  by  the  testator  in  the  office  of  Bolton,  Mr.  Craw 
ford  was  absent  from  the  city ;  had  been  so  for  several  weeks, 
and  did  not  return  until  two  months  afterward.  He  cast  a 
triumphant  glance  at  the  attorney ;  but  Bolton  had  recovered 
his  composure. 

Mr.  Whitman  rose  as  Fisk  sat  down,  and  said  that,  as  a 
preliminary  step  to  his  entering  into  this  testimony,  he 
should  expect  the  gentleman  to  show  his  client's  right  to  con 
test  the  Will,  by  showing  her  legitimacy,  as  he  had  promised. 

i  I  will,'  was  Mr.  Fisk's  curt  reply.  He  called  John 
Hastings. 


296  THE    ATTORNEY. 

This  was  the  old  witness.  He  gave  his  evidence  in  a 
clear,  straight-forward  manner.  He  proved  the  marriage  ; 
gave  the  name  of  the  clergyman,  and  of  those  present  at  the 
ceremony,  and  mentioned  the  place  at  which  it  was  per 
formed.  The  book  in  which  it  was  registered  by  the  officiat 
ing  clergyman  was  also  produced,  and  his  hand-writing  and 
the  identity  of  the  book  were  proved  beyond  a  doubt ;  for 
the  information  obtained  from  this  witness  had  enabled  the 
friends  of  Miss  Crawford  to  discover  the  name  of  the  person 
who  had  performed  the  nuptial  ceremony,  and  the  proper 
place  at  which  to  search  for  the  record  of  the  marriage. 
Notwithstanding  the  opposition  of  Mr.  Whitman,  by  dint  of 
management,  Mr.  Fisk  contrived  to  get  admitted  in  evidence 
an  account  of  his  recent  visits  to  the  office  of  the  attorney 
for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  the  residence  of  Mr.  Craw 
ford,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  Bolton  had  deceived  him 
from  time  to  time,  and  of  his  strange  behavior  on  the  night 
of  his  last  visit  to  his  office.  His  manner  was  so  simple,  yet 
earnest  and  truthful,  that  his  evidence  told  terribly  against 
Bolton.  Mr.  Whitman  cross-examined  him,  and  attacked 
and  harassed  him  in  every  possible  manner ;  but  the  story 
was  still  the  same.  There  was  no  variation,  no  contradic 
tion  ;  and  at  last  he  was  told  that  he  might  go. 

As  he  sat  down,  Mr.  Whitman  turned  furiously  to  Bolton, 
and  asked  in  a  whisper :  '  What 's  the  meaning  of  this,  Sir  ? 
It 's  proved  beyond  a  doubt.  There's  no  doubt  as  to  her 
legitimacy.' 

*  I  can't  understand  it.  It 's  false]  replied  Bolton  in  a 
faint  voice.  *  Perhaps  there  's  subornation.  I  suspect  foul 
play.' 

'So  do  /,'  said  Mr.  Whitman,  looking  at  him  with  a  low 
ering  eye.  *  If  Fisk  makes  out  his  case,  there  will  be  no 
doubt  of  the  d dest  villany  someivhere  that  ever  waa 


THE    ATTORNEY.  297 

perpetrated  ;  and  be  the  perpetrator  who  he  may,  he  shall 
pay  the  penalty,  if  there  's  law  in  the  land.'  As  he  said  this, 
he  turned  savagely  away  to  take  down  the  answers  of  the 
next  witness,  who  was  no  other  than  the  relict  of  the  late 
Mr.  Dow.  Mr.  Fisk  led  her  to  a  chair  near  the  Surrogate. 

*  What 's  your  name  ? '  demanded  Mr.  Jagger. 
'Mrs.  Dow  —  Mrs.  Wiolet  Dow,'  replied  the  witness. 
The  Surrogate  took  it  down,  and  then  extended  the  Bible 

toward  her. 

'  Put  your  hand  on  the  book.' 
Mrs.  Dow  did  so. 

*  Aro  you  left-handed  ? '  inquired  Mr.  Jagger,  gruffly. 
'  Oh  no,  Sir  ;  my  husband  was,  but  /  a'  n't.' 

*  Then  put  your  right  hand  on  the  Bible,  and  listen  to  the 
oath.     Stand  up.     You  solemnly  swear  that  the  evidence 
which  you  shall  give  in  the  matter  of  proving  the  last  Will 
and  testament  of  John  Crawford,  deceased,  shall  be  the  truth, 
the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  so  help  you  GOD.' 

'  Of  course  it  shall  be,  Mr.  Surrogate.  Of  course  it  shall,' 
said  Mrs.  Dow,  courtesy  ing  ;  '  I  always  tell  the  truth.' 

*  Kiss  the  book ! '  interrupted  Mr.  Jagger,  at  the  same  time 
extending  to  her  a  remarkably  dirty  Bible,  which  in  due 
form  of  law  had  submitted  to  the  embraces  of  every  witness 
whom  he  had  sworn  for  the  last  ten  years. 

Mrs.  Dow  kissed  the  book ;  and  after  a  few  preliminary 
rufflings  settled  herself  down,  and  looked  very  earnestly  at 
Mr.  Fisk,  at  the  same  time  pulling  off  and  putting  on  her 
gloves  with  rather  an  unnecessary  frequency. 

*  Where  do  you  reside,  Mrs.  Dow  ? ' 

'  In  the  Bowery,  three  doors  from  S street,  on  the 

north  side ;  a  small  brick  house  with  a  yellow  door.' 

*  No  matter  for  that,'  interrupted  Mr.  Fisk.     '  You  reside 
in  the  city  ? ' 

13* 


298  THE    ATTORNEY. 

<0h  yes,  Sir;  I  do.' 

'  What 's  your  age  ? '  inquired  Mr.  Fisk. 

Mrs.  Dow  reddened,  and  hesitated.  'My  age,  Sir — is 
that  very  material  ? ' 

'  No.     You  are  past  twenty,  are  you  not  ? '  said  Mr.  Fisk. 

'  I  object  to  that  question  as  leading,'  said  Mr.  Whitman, 
a  grim  smile  crossing  his  face  for  the  first  time  that  day. 

'  Put  it  yourself,'  replied  Mr.  Fisk,  looking  up  from  his 
writing. 

'  I  will.     Are  you  past  sixty  or  seventy,  Madam  ? ' 

'  Seventy  !  gracious  me  ! '  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dow,  extremely 
agitated. 

Here  the  mirth  of  the  stunted  marker,  who  had  been 
watching  the  trial  with  great  interest,  became  exceedingly 
uproarious,  and  was  cut  short  by  Mr.  Quagley,  who  quietly 
applied  his  knuckles  in  a  single  hard  knock  to  the  top  of  his 
head. 

Mr.  Jagger  looked  sternly  at  the  stunted  marker,  and  said 
something  about  committing  him,  but  altered  his  mind,  and 
scratching  his  nose  with  his  little  finger,  told  Mr.  Fisk  to 
proceed. 

'  You  need  not  answer  the  question,'  said  Mr.  Fisk.  '  It 's 
unimportant,  and  I  withdraw  it.  Are  you  acquainted  with 
a  man  by  the  name  of  George  Wilkins  ? ' 

'Oh  yes,  Sir,  I  think  I  am  —  I  ought  to  be.'  And  Mrs. 
Dow  looked  as  if  she  could  say  a  great  deal  more  if  it  were 
tiecessary. 

'  Then  you  are  acquainted  with  him  ? '  said  Mr.  Fisk. 

'  Oh  yes,  Sir,  quite  acquainted.' 

'  Did  he  ever  make  to  you  a  proposal  of  marriage  ? ' 

Mrs.  Dow  became  overwhelmed  with  confusion.  Mr.  Fisk 
repeated  the  question ;  and  amid  various  flourishes  of  an 
article  which  had  once  been  a  handkerchief,  the  lady  ad- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  299 

mitted  that  he  had  '  once  ; '  and  thereupon  she  hid  her  face 
and  her  blushes  in  the  article  before  mentioned. 

*  Stop,'  said  Mr.  Whitman. 

'  Did  he  ever  write  to  you  when  he  was  absent  from  the 
city  ? '  demanded  Mr.  Fisk,  pretending  not  to  hear  the  objec 
tion. 

Again  the  handkerchief  was  flourished  in  the  air,  and 
again  the  lady  buried  her  face  in  it,  while  an  affirmative 
escaped  from  among  its  folds. 

'  What  was  the  nature  of  those  letters  ? ' 

'If  your  Honor  please,'  interrupted  Mr.  Whitman,  gra 
dually  unfolding  himself  until  he  stood  on  his  feet,  '  I  object 
to  these  questions.  It  appears  to  me  that  the  family  history 
of  the  witness  has  little  to  do  with  the  case.  Her  matrimo 
nial  arrangements  may  be  matters  of  deep  interest  to  herself; 
but  I  must  confess  that  I  do  not  participate  in  that  feeling ; 
and  unless  the  learned  counsel  can  show  some  very  good 
reason  for  entering  upon  the  history  of  the  amatory  adven 
tures  of  an  old  woman  of  seventy,  I  shall  move  that  all  fur 
ther  detail  of  the  throes  and  agonies  of  her  susceptible  heart 
be  excluded.' 

As  he  sat  down,  no  part  of  Mrs.  Dow's  face  was  visible 
except  a  peppery  eye,  which  gleamed  at  him  over  one  end 
of  the  handkerchief  in  glances  of  fire. 

Mr.  Fisk  rose  to  reply.  '  Since  the  gentleman  is  so  very 
desirous  of  knowing  what  I  intend  to  prove  by  this  witness, 
I  will  tell  him.  The  paper  which  he  has  produced  in  court, 
and  which  he  wishes  to  establish  as  a  Will  of  real  and  personal 
estate,  purports  to  have  been  attested  by  two  persons,  George 
Wilkins  and  William  Higgs.  It  is  my  intention,  by  the 
testimony  of  this  witness,  to  show  the  character  of  the  first 
of  these  two  men  ;  to  prove  him  to  be  a  man  Void  of  prin 
ciple,  who  would  lend  himself  to  any  transaction,  however 


300  THE    ATTORNEY. 

foul,  provided  lie  found  it  to  his  interest  to  do  so.  The  ob 
ject  of  the  particular  questions  to  which  the  learned  counsel 
objects  is  to  prove  that  this  same  George  Wilkins  has  made 
to  this  lady  an  offer  of  marriage ;  is  in  the  habit  of  corre 
sponding  with  her  as  his  affianced  wife ;  and  is  under  a 
solemn  pledge  of  marriage  to  her,  while  he  has  a  wife  living 
and  residing  in  this  city  at  this  very  time.' 

*  Of  course  such  testimony  is  not  admissible/  replied  the 
Surrogate.  '  You  may  bring  evidence  to  show  the  general 
reputation  of  the  witness  for  veracity,  but  you  cannot  offer 
isolated  facts.' 

But  Mr.  Fisk's  object  had  been  gained.  He  had  contrived 
to  cast  suspicion  on  the  character  of  Wilkins. 

All  further  examination  was  for  a  moment  suspended  by 
a  sound  between  a  hiccough,  a  laugh,  and  a  scream,  emanat 
ing  from  Mrs.  Dow  ;  and  after  several  violent  flourishes  of 
her  arms  and  feet,  in  which  latter  performance  there  was 
rather  an  unusual  display  of  red  flannel  under-clothes,  Mrs. 
Dow  fell  flat  on  the  floor,  carrying  with  her  a  pile  of  law- 
books  which  she  had  unconsciously  grasped  in  her  descent, 
to  the  great  annoyance  of  a  deaf  witness,  who  was  sleeping 
in  the  corner,  and  whose  foot  formed  the  receptacle  of  one 
of  the  last-named  articles. 

Mrs.  Dow  was  not  a  very  bulky  specimen  of  her  sex,  and 
the  man  with  a  frizzled  wig,  with  the  assistance  of  a  far  from 
vigorous  bystander,  had  very  little  difficulty  in  transferring 
her  from  the  room  to  the  open  air.  A  slight  bustle  was 
created  by  this  occurrence ;  but  in  a  few  minutes  it  being 
announced  that  the  lady  was  reviving,  Mr.  Fisk  said  that  he 
would  trouble  her  no  further,  as  he  could  prove  all  that  was 
necessary  by  other  witnesses,  whose  nerves  were  less  sensi 
tive. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  trace  him  through  the  gradual 


THE    ATTORNEY.  301 

development  of  his  case.  Witness  after  witness  was  pro 
duced.  The  character  of  both  Higgs  and  Wilkins  was 
painted  in  its  true  light ;  vilest  even  where  all  were  vile,  cal 
lous,  hardened,  and  reckless.  Even  Higgs,  indifferent  as  he 
usually  was  to  the  opinion  of  those  about  him,  slunk  into  a 
corner  away  from  the  eye  of  the  crowd,  and  leaned  down  his 
head  so  that  none  could  see  his  face.  Bolton  still  sat  where 
he  had  stationed  himself  at  the  beginning  of  the  cause  ;  but 
his  face,  usually  so  pale,  became  flushed.  He  dared  not  look 
at  his  own  lawyer  ;  for  he  felt  that  every  now  and  then  the 
piercing  eyes  of  Mr.  Whitman  were  flashing  on  him  in 
glances  of  fire,  and  that  while  he  was  laboring  to  the  utmost 
in  his  cause,  his  mind  was  filled  with  suspicion. 

'A  d d  pretty  pair  of  witnesses  you  had  to  that  Will !' 

said  he  at  last,  in  a  snappish  whisper. 

'  I  never  vouched  for  their  character,'  replied  Bolton,  with 
apparent  coolness.  *  You  know  how  they  happened  to  wit 
ness  it.  A  man  has  all  sorts  of  men  among  his  clients.' 

'/  do  not,  Sir,  when  I  find  them  out,'  replied  Mr.  Whit 
man,  sharply. 

He  turned  his  back  on  Boiton,  and  Mr.  Fisk  went  on  with 
his  case.  A  witness  was  produced  to  prove  assertions  of 
Bolton  that  the  Will  had  been  executed  on  the  tenth  of 
August.  On  the  cross-examination,  however,  he  became 
confused,  and  eventually  contradicted  all  that  he  had  said  in 
his  direct  examination  ;  and  when  he  got  out  of  Mr.  Whit 
man's  hands,  his  testimony  amounted  to  nothing.  Still  Fisk 
produced  witness  after  witness  ;  some  proving  one  thing, 
some  another,  but  all  materially  strengthening  his  case. 
With  the  exception  just  mentioned,  the  case  looked  unfavor 
able  to  the  attorney.  Persons  of  unimpeachable  character 
swore  to  declarations  made  by  the  testator  subsequent  to  the 
time  at  which  the  forged  Will  was  sworn  to  have  been 


302  THE    ATTORNEY. 

executed,  that  he  had  left  all  his  property  to  his  daughter. 
Cross-examination  had  no  effect  on  their  testimony.  The 
facts  remained  the  same  ;  uncontradicted,  unshaken.  Again 
Whitman  cast  a  stern  inquiring  glance  at  Bolton. 

'  It  may  be  as  they  say,'  whispered  Bolton  in  reply  to  the 
look  ;  '  but  I  know  nothing  of  it.  If  there  's  a  later  Will, 
let  them  produce  it.  Until  they  do,  this  one  is  the  last,  and 
stands.' 

Again  Whitman  turned  away,  baffled  in  his  suspicions, 
and  again  the  attorney  felt  himself  relieved  as  that  stern, 
searching  eye  was  removed  from  his  face. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  quiet  confidence  in  the  mannei 
of  Fisk,  as  he  called  his  last  witness.  As  he  did  so,  he 
whispered  a  few  words  in  the  ear  of  Mr.  Cutbill,  who  laughed 
convulsively.  The  witness  had  been  an  upper-servant  in  the 
house  of  Mr.  Crawford.  He  swore  that  Mr.  Crawford  went 
into  the  country  in  the  month  of  August,  and  was  absent 
until  late  in  the  month  of  November  following ;  that  he 
lived  with  Mr.  Crawford  at  the  time,  and  knew  when  he  left 
the  city  and  when  he  returned.  All  went  on  smoothly  during 
the  direct  examination.  Fisk  grew  very  confident,  the  Sur 
rogate  frowned  at  Bolton,  and  Mr.  Cutbill  laid  down  his  pen, 
and  in  the  excess  of  his  delight  cracked  the  knuckles  of  ten 
fingers  at  once. 

*  The  witness  is  yours,  Mr.  Whitman.' 

Before  commencing  the  cross-examination,  a  long  and 
earnest  conversation  was  carried  on  in  an  undertone  between 
Bolton  and  Whitman,  who  turned  to  the  witness  and  asked : 

'At  what  time  in  the  month  of  August  last  did  Mr.  Craw 
ford  leave  the  city  ? ' 

'  About  the  fifteenth,'  replied  the  man. 

'  How  long  was  he  absent  ? ' 

'  Until  the  end  of  the  month  of  November  following/ 


THE    ATTORNEY.  803 

'  You  are  certain  ? ' 

The  witness  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

'Did  he  not  at  any  time  return  to  the  city  between  the 
fifteenth  of  August  and  the  end  of  November  ? ' 

'  I  think  not.     I  'm  positive  that  he  did  not.' 

Mr.  Fisk  here  whispered  something  to  Mr.  Cutbill,  who 
laughed  in  a  subdued  but  violent  manner.  Mr.  Whitman 
looked  up  at  them  ;  and  there  was  a  smile  on  his  face  which 
Fisk  did  not  relish. 

'  Were  you  in  the  habit  of  carrying  letters  from  Mr. 
Crawford  to  Mr.  Bolton's  office?' 

'  I  was,  frequently.' 

'  Do  you  recollect  on  one  occasion  taking  a  note  to  him 
containing  a  large  sum  of  money,  which  you  dropped  in  the 
outer  entry  ? ' 

'  I  do,'  replied  the  witness. 

'  What  has  that  to  do  with  the  matter  ? '  interrupted  Mr. 
Fisk. 

'  You  '11  see,'  replied  Mr.  Whitman,  grimly.  '  Who  gave 
you  that  letter  ? ' 

'Mr.  Crawford.' 

'  Where  was  he  when  he  gave  it  to  you  ? ' 

'At  his  own  house.' 

'  Did  he  send  any  message  with  the  letter  ?' 

'  He  told  me  to  tell  Mr.  Bolton  that  he  would  call  at  his 
office  in  an  hour,  and  that  he  particularly  wished  him  not  to 
go  out  till  he  came.' 

'  Did  he  state  to  you  the  nature  of  the  business  which  ho 
expected  to  transact  with  Mr.  Bolton.' 

'  He  did  not.' 

'  Do  you  recollect  whether  you  mentioned  to  Mr.  Bolton 
what  you  supposed  the  nature  of  that  business  to  be  ? ' 

'  I  object  to  that,'  interrupted  Mr.  Fisk,  sharply.     '  We 


304  THE    ATTORNEY. 

do  n't  want  to  hear  the  suppositions  of  the  witness.  He  will 
please  to  confine  himself  to  what  he  knows.' 

'  You  shall  have  it,  Sir,'  replied  Mr.  Whitman,  in  a  very 
curt  manner.  Then  turning  to  the  witness,  he  said,  '  State 
what  you  repeated  to  Mr.  Bolton  in  obeying  the  instructions 
of  Mr.  Crawford. 

'  I  told  him  that  Mr.  Crawford  wanted  to  see  him  about 
his  Will.' 

1  Did  Mr.  Crawford  tell  you  to  do  so  ? '  interrupted  Mr.  Fisk, 
sharply. 

'  No,  Sir.' 

'  Ah  !  I  see  :  it  was  only  a  surmise  of  your  own,*  said  Mr. 
Fisk,  leaning  back  in  his  chair. 

'  I  would  suggest  to  the  gentleman,'  said  Mr.  Whitman, 
snappishly,  '  that  the  time  for  him  to  commence  his  cross- 
examination  is  after  I  get  through.' 

Mr.  Fisk  made  no  reply,  but  looked  abstractedly  up  at  the 
ceiling. 

Mr.  Whitman  turned  to  the  witness. 

'  How  did  you  know  that  Mr.  Crawford  wanted  to  see 
Mr.  Bolton  about  his  Will  ? ' 

'Because,  while  Mr.  Crawford  was  speaking  to  me  and 
giving  me  directions  to  go  to  Mr.  Bolton's  office,  there  was 
a  paper  lying  folded  up  on  the  table  near  him  ;  and  on  it 
was  written  in  large  letters,  that  it  was  Mr.  Crawford's  Will ; 
and  before  I  left  the  room  he  put  in  it  his  pocket.' 

Mr.  Whitman  got  up,  handed  him  the  forged  Will,  and 
showed  him  the  endorsement  on  it.  '  Was  that  the  paper  ? T 
said  he. 

The  witness  examined  it  carefully,  and  said  that  he  did 
not  know.  It  certainly  looked  very  like  it.  It  was  folded 
in  that  way,  and  the  writing  on  the  back  of  it  was  in  the 
same  hand.  He  did  not  know.  He  thought  it  was,  but  he 
could  not  swear  to  it. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  805 

'  Now,'  said  Mr.  Whitman,  laying  down  his  pen  and  look 
ing  the  witness  full  in  the  face,  '  when  was  that  ? ' 

The  man  stood  for  some  time,  running  the  matter  over  in 
his  mind  ;  then  he  grew  exceedingly  red,  hesitated  and  stam 
mered,  and  at  last  said,  he  recollected  that  it  was  in  the 
month  of  September  last ;  he  had  forgotten  it,  when  he  an 
swered  at  first ;  he  had  intended  to  tell  the  truth  —  indeed 
he  had. 

'  Do  n't  be  frightened,  my  good  fellow,'  said  Mr.  Whitman, 
soothingly.  '  I  have  no  doubt  of  it ;  and  the  object  of  my 
asking  those  previous  questions  was  to  recall  it  to  your  recol 
lection.  Now  try  if  you  can  tell  me  what  was  the  day  of 
the  month.  ' 

The  witness  paused,  and  -at  last  swore  positively  that  it 
was  the  sixth  of  September.  He  knew  it  because  his  wages 
had  become  due  on  that  day,  and  Mr.  Crawford  had  paid 
them  before  going  out  of  town,  which  he  did  the  same  after 
noon.  He  mentioned  a  number  of  other  reasons  for  his 
being  certain  as  to  the  day.  He  was  positive  as  to  the  date. 
A  few  more  questions  were  asked ;  and  Mr.  Whitman  told 
him  that  he  was  done  with  him. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Mr.  Fisk  endeavored  to  alter  his  testi 
mony,  by  renewing  his  direct  examination.  The  fact,  luckily 
for  Bolton,  was  as  the  witness  had  sworn ;  and  Fisk  dis 
missed  the  man  with  the  strong  conviction  that  the  tide  was 
against  him. 

'  Have  you  any  more  witnesses,  gentlemen  ? '  asked  the 
Surrogate. 

'  None ! '  replied  Mr.  Fisk. 

'  Have  you  any  more  testimony  to  offer  ? '  said  he,  turning 
to  Mr.  Whitman. 

Mr.  Whitman  replied  in  the  negative. 

'  If  you  have  any  remarks  to  make  before  submitting  this 


306  THE    ATTORNEY. 

matter  to  the  decision  of  the  court,  I  will  hear  them.'  Mr. 
Jagger  thrust  his  thumbs  in  his  waist-coat  pockets,  and 
frowned  at  the  opposite  wall,  by  way  of  showing  that  he  was 
preparing  to  listen  intently ;  and  Mr.  Fisk,  after  running  his 
eye  over  his  notes,  got  up.  In  his  speech  he  contended  that 
the  discrepancy  between  the  date  of  the  Will  and  the  time 
when  it  was  proved  to  have  been  executed  ;  the  notoriously 
bad  character  of  the  attesting  witnesses ;  the  ample  proof 
of  the  legitimacy  of  Miss  Crawford,  and  the  declarations  of 
the  testator  as  to  the  disposition  which  he  had  made  of  his 
property,  were  facts  too  overwhelming  to  be  withstood,  and 
proved  that  the  Will  was  a  fraudulent  one,  beyond  even  a 
shadow  of  doubt.  He  supported  his  position  by  powerful 
and  plausible  argument.  He  cited  cases ;  read  extracts  from 
some,  and  called  the  attention  of  the  Surrogate  to  others, 
which  went  to  strengthen  those  previously  read.  His  speech, 
which  lasted  more  than  two  hours,  was  able,  vigorous,  and 
exceedingly  bitter,  sparing  neither  Bolton  nor  his  confede 
rates. 

Mr.  Whitman  was  one  of  those  men  who  take  a  long  time 
to  get  started ;  and  it  was  not  until  he  had  spoken  for  fifteen 
or  twenty  minutes,  that  his  strength  began  to  show  itself. 
He  said  that  the  facts  relating  to  the  date  of  the  Will,  which 
appeared  so.  very  mysterious  to  the  opposite  counsel,  were 
simply  these.  The  testator  had  caused  his  Will  to  be  drawn 
up,  had  intended  to  have  executed  it  on  the  tenth  of  August, 
and  had  inserted  the  date  in  his  own  hand-writing  on  that 
day.  For  some  reason  he  had  neglected  to  execute  it,  and 
went  from  the  city,  leaving  the  Will  incomplete.  In  the 
month  of  September  he  returned  for  the  purpose  of  attend 
ing  to  other  business  ;  and  while  in  the  city,  thought  of  his 
Will,  and  that  it  had  not  been  executed.  He  sent  word  to 
the  lawyer  to  wait  until  he  came  to  his  office  —  as  was  proved 


THti    ATTORNEY.  307 

by  the  testimony  of  one  of  their  own  witnesses,  on  whom 
therefore  there  could  rest  no  suspicion  of  bias  in  favor  of  his 
client  —  at  the  same  time  taking  his  Will  with  him.  He 
went  to  the  office  of  Mr.  Bolton,  and  executed  it.  He  had 
no  time  to  spare,  as  he  intended  leaving  town  by  the  boat 
which  was  to  start  in  the  afternoon.  Higgs  and  Wilkins, 
whom  he  knew  from  having  frequently  met  them  in  the 
lawyer's  office,  and  who  also  knew  him  in  the  same  manner, 
happened  to  be  there  at  the  time ;  and  he  requested  them  to 
attest  the  Will.  They  did  so.  The  Will  was  left  with 
Bolton,  and  in  an  hour  Mr.  Crawford  was  on  his  way  up  the 
Hudson.  This,  he  said,  was  the  solution  of  this  very  pro 
found  mystery.  To  his  declarations  that  he  had  left  a  Will 
in  favor  of  his  daughter,  he  had  nothing  to  say.  If  there 
was  one,  on  its  being  produced  this  Will  would  be  a  mere 
dead-letter ;  but  until  it  was  produced,  this  Will  stood.  The 
gentleman,  he  sa-id,  laid  great  stress  on  his  calling  his  daugh 
ter  illegitimate  in  his  Will,  when  she  was  not  so  *•  and  on 
that  ground  declared  the  present  Will  to  be  forged.  He 
believed  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  people  had  made  mis 
representations  in  their  Wills  when  they  wished  to  justify 
any  act  which  they  supposed  that  the  world  would  censure, 
which  Wills  nevertheless  had  stood.  It  might  be  a  ground 
for  attacking  the  mental  capacity  of  the  testator ;  but  it  was 
the  first  time  in  the  whole  course  of  his  experience  that  he 
ever  had  heard  that  because  a  testator  in  making  his  Will 
had  misrepresented  a  fact,  that  therefore  the  Will  was  a  forged 
one.  The  evidence  of  his  opponent  was  pulled  to  pieces, 
while  the  facts  in  his  own  case  were  presented  in  the  most 
favorable  point  of  view,  and  the  law  bearing  on  them  was 
applied  in  the  most  masterly  manner.  Nothing  could  be 
more  clear,  forcible,  and  apparently  conclusive  than  his  argu 
ment  ;  and  when  he  sat  down,  although  Mr.  Jagger  looked 


308  THE    ATTORNEY. 

as  earnestly  as  ever  at  the  opposite  wall,  and  seemed  per 
fectly  impervious  to  speeches  of  all  kinds,  the  feelings  of  the 
less  experienced  of  the  audience  were  with  Bolton. 

The  two  counsel  gathered  up  their  papers ;  and  Mr.  Jagger 
said  that  he  would  examine  the  case,  and  give  his  decision 
as  soon  as  possible.  He  then  adjourned  the  court. 

'  What 's  the  meaning  of  what  that  last  fellow  swore  to 
about  the  Will  ? '  said  Higgs  to  the  attorney,  as  soon  as  they 
were  out  of  the  building.  '  Was  he  bought  ? ' 

'  No  ;  what  he  said  was  true,'  replied  Bolton.  '  Crawford 
did  come  to  my  office  on  that  day,  and  he  did  bring  a  Will ; 
but  he  never  executed  it.  He  wanted  to  consult  me  about 
it,  suggested  some  alterations,  and  went  out  of  town,  leaving 
it  in  my  possession  until  his  return.  I  have  it  in  my  office 
now.  It  was  a  lucky  coincidence  with  what  you  and  Wilkins 
swore  to.  I  had  forgotten  it.  It  flashed  across  me  as  soon 
as  Fisk  called  the  fellow  ;  and  I  happened  to  have  a  memo 
randum  in  my  pocket-book,  made  by  Crawford,  and  dated 
by  him ;  so  that  I  was  sure  of  the  time  before  I  broke  the 
matter  to  Whitman,  who  is  as  suspicious  as  the  very  Devil. 
He  managed  the  fellow  finely.  His  summing  up  was  not 
bad.' 

'  But  those  assertions  of  the  old  man,  that  he  had  made 
another  Will  ? '  suggested  Higgs. 

*  I  suppose  he  referred  to  this  one.  He  must  have  forgot 
ten  that  he  did  not  execute  it.  He  left  every  thing  to  her 
in  it.' 

'  You  '11  gain  the  cause,'  said  Higgs,  quietly.  '  When  will 
you  be  ready  to  plank  up  ?  You  '11  not  hang  fire  ?  If  you 
efo,  you  '11  be  sorry  for  it ! ' 

'  I'll  be  ready  on  the  very  day,'  said  Bolton. 

'  That 's  enough.'  And  Higgs  left  him,  and  made  the 
best  of  his  way  to  one  of  his  old  haunts. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  309 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

THE  day  on  which  the  Will  was  offered  for  probate  was  a 
dreadful  one  for  Lucy  ;  not  the  less  so  that  the  cause  of  her 
trouble  was  such  that  she  could  communicate  it  to  no  one 
without  the  risk  of  bringing  upon  the  head  of  her  husband 
the  penalty  which  the  law  awarded  to  crimes  such  as  his. 
Fortunately  for  her,  Miss  Crawford  rarely  spoke  of  the  Will, 
except  to  Dr.  Thurston  and  Wharton  ;  and  thus  the  extreme 
agitation  which  Lucy  always  evinced  when  it  was  alluded  to 
escaped  observation.  But  this  rack  of  mind  was  making 
sad  inroads  upon  her  health.  Her  voice  had  become  feeble, 
her  step  languid,  and  her  whole  form  so  frail  and  thin  that 
she  seemed  but  the  ghost  of  what  she  had  been.  She  grew 
absent  and  moody,  and  rarely  spoke. 

Dr.  Thurston  had  called  frequently  to  see  her,  and  had 
prescribed  a  few  medicines  ;  but  as  he  went  away  one  morn 
ing,  he  met  Miss  Crawford  in  the  entry,  and  taking  her  hand, 
said : 

'  She  's  going  fast.  Be  kind  to  her ;  for  she  has  seen 
much  trouble  —  that  poor  girl.  It 's  the  heart,  and  not  the 
body,  that's  giving  way.  What  did  you  say  her  name 
was?' 

'  Mrs.  Wilkins.  She  did  not  mention  it  herself,  but  a 
person  who  has  been  once  or  twice  to  see  her,  calls  her  so.' 

'A  bad  name  —  a  very  bad  name  !  I  think  I  may  con 
scientiously  say,  a  d d  bad  name  !  It 's  the  name  of 

the  infernal  scamp  who  is  a  witness  to  that  Will.  Can  she 
be  a  relative  of  his  ? ' 


S10  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  It 's  not  very  probable.' 

*  No,  it  is  not.  Well,  take  good  care  of  her.  She  '11  not 
trouble  you  long.' 

The  old  man  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  cleared  his  throat, 
which  had  become  a  little  husky,  and  went  out. 

From  that  time  Miss  Crawford  redoubled  her  kindness  to 
Lucy.  She  humored  her  moody  ways,  and  on  that  day  in 
particular  had  endeavored  so  patiently  and  with  so  much 
good-humor  to  cheer  her  spirits,  that,  unable  to  control  her 
feelings,  Lucy  left  the  room,  and  going  to  her  own  chamber,, 
wept  like  a  child. 

How  guilty  she  felt !  At  that  moment  a  strong  inclina 
tion  seized  her  to  steal  out  of  the  house ;  to  turn  her  back 
upon  it,  and  to  return  no  more.  Then  came  a  sudden  im 
pulse  to  go  to  Miss  Crawford,  and  to  tell  her  all  that  she 
knew.  She  rose  up  with  this  determination  strong  within 
her ;  but  she  paused.  She  was  going  to  betray  her  hus 
band  !  —  one  whom  she  still  loved  ;  to  brand  his  name  with 
infamy ;  and  even  though  he  escaped  punishment,  to  cast  a 
stain  upon  him  that  could  never  be  effaced.  Oh  !  no,  no ! 
she  could  not  do  it !  —  she  could  not ! 

She  sat  down,  and  endeavored  to  await  the  result  of  the 
trial  with  calmness  ;  but  it  was  an  idle  hope ;  for  during  the 
whole  day  her  brain  teemed  with  bewildering  thoughts.  At 
times  she  could  dream  of  little  else  except  Wilkins  —  an 
outcast,  suffering  the  penalty  of  the  law.  Sometimes,  how 
ever,  her  mind  strayed  off  even  from  that ;  and  a  sense  of 
utter  loneliness  and  weariness  would  come  over  her,  and  a 
strong  desire  to  lay  her  head  down  and  never  to  awake 
again.  Then  again  she  found  herself  devising  plans  for 
gaining  a  livelihood  when  she  should  have  quitted  Miss 
Crawford's  house ;  for  she  resolved  no  longer  to  owe  her 
bread  to  one  whom  her  husband  had  so  deeply  injured.  She 


THE    ATTORNEY.  311 

made  up  her  mind  that  when  she  next  saw  Phillips  she 
would  communicate  her  intention  to  him,  and  ask  his  assist 
ance  ;  for  he  knew  more  of  her  secret  than  any  one  else ; 
and  she  felt  sure  that  he  would  appreciate  the  motives  which 
induced  her  to  abandon  her  present  home.  She  had  seen 
him  but  once  since  the  memorable  day  of  her  interview  with 
Bolton ;  but  he  had  promised  to  attend  at  the  Surrogate's 
office  when  the  Will  was  offered  for  probate,  and  to  inform 
her  of  what  took  place.  Every  time  the  bell  rung  she  ex 
pected  him  ;  and  at  last  a  servant  knocked  at  the  door  and 
informed  her  that  he  was  below. 

She  got  up,  and  as  she  did  so  she  became  deadly  faint ; 
but  the  feeling  passed  off.  She  went  down  stairs  slowly  and 
painfully,  tottering  at  every  step,  and  when  she  entered  the 
room  she  panted  for  breath. 

'  Good  Heavens,  Lucy  !  how  ill  you  look ! '  said  Phillips ; 
4 you  must  take  care  of  yourself;  indeed  you  must.' 

'Never  mind  about  that,  Jack,'  said  she,  sinking  in  a  chair  ; 
'  never  mind  about  that  now.  Tell  me  what  has  been  done 
to-day  about  him.  Has  he  been  there  1 ' 

'  He  has,'  replied  Phillips. 

Lucy  closed  her  eyes  and  became  exceedingly  pale.  *  Well, 
go  on  ;  I  can  bear  any  thing  now ;  go  on.  Let  me  know  the 
worst  at  once.  He  swore  that  he  saw  the  Will  signed  ? ' 

*  Yes,  he  did,'  said  Phillips. 

'  When  ?  —  when  ?     Tell  me  that ! ' 

'  Some  time  in  September.     The  sixth  or  seventh.' 

Lucy  started  to  her  feet.  '  September  !  September  !  Did 
he  say  September  ? '  exclaimed  she  vehemently,  at  the  same 
time  grasping  his  arm. 

'  There  was  some  difficulty  about  that,'  replied  Phillips. 
'As  well  as  I  could  make  it  out,  the  Will  was  dated  in 
August;  but  was  not  witnessed  then.  Both  Higgs  and 


312  THE    ATTORNEY. 

Wilkins  swore  to  that.  It  could  not  have  been ;  for  they 
said  that  they  were  both  absent  from  the  city  in  August. 
The  lawyers  talked  a  great  deal  about  it ;  and  I  do  n't  know 
how  it  would  have  ended  ;  but  one  of  Miss  Crawford's  own 
witnesses  —  a  servant  who  had  lived  in  the  house  —  swore 
that  he  took  (lie  Will  to  Bolton's  office  on  the  very  day  that 
these  men  swore  that  they  witnessed  it  there ;  and  that  his 
master  went  there  to  sign  it.  It  was  the  sixtli  or  seventh 
of  September.' 

Lucy  clasped  her  hands  together.  '  Thank  God  !  Thank 
God !  Poor  George  1  I  have  wronged  him.  I  have  wronged 
him!' 

But  amid  this  sudden  gush  of  joy,  she  recollected  her  in 
terview  with  the  attorney,  and  the  violent  agitation  which 
lie  lf*d  then  displayed  ;  and  the  truth  flashed  on  her.  This 
was  some  new  trick  of  his.  She,  had  put  him  on  his  guard ; 
and  he  had  thus  been  enabled  to  provide  against  detection, 
which  would  otherwise  have  been  certain. 

'  I  see  it  all ;  I  seo  it  all ! '  said  she,  again  sinking  back  in 
her  chair.  4  It 's  all  written  too  plainly  to  be  mis-read.  I 
can  trace  all  the  windings  of  that  man's  black  heart.  God 
help  those  who  fall  in  his  hands!  God  help  George  now; 
for  he  's  lost  for  ever  ! ' 

She  leaned  her  head  on  her  hands,  and  the  tears  gushed 
from  between  her  fingers. 

1  1'iit,  Lucy,'  interposed  Phillips,  in  an  expostulating  voice, 
'all  seems  Straight-forward  about  this  matter.  If  there 's 
any  foul  play,  it's  on  the  part  of  the  old  man.  It  was 
shameful  for  him  to  cut  off  his  daughter  in  that  way  ;  hut 
there  \s  no  hlamo  to  George.' 

*  You  do  n't  know  all,  Jack  ;  you  do  n't  know  what  passed 
between  the  lawyer  and  me  when  I  went  to  his  office.  It 
almost  turned  my  head  ;  but  it 's  past  now.  We  won't  talk 


THE    ATTORNEY.  313 

of  this  matter  any  longer,'  said  she,  with  a  sudden  effort. 
'It  can  do  no  good.  But  I  want  you  to  assist  and  adviso 
me  in  what  I  am  going  to  do.  I  intend  to  leave  this  house, 
for  I  can't  stay  hero  after  what  (Jeorge  has  done.  The  young 
lady  does  not  know  that  I  am  his  wife  ;  but  if  she  discovered 
it,  I  feel  as  if  it  would  kill  mo.  What  I  want  is  this  :  you 
must  find  me  some  employment,  by  which  I  can  support 
myself  without  living  on  her  charity.  I  care  not  how  hard 
the  work  is.  I  'Jl  labor  from  morning  till  night,  sooner  than 
be  dependent  on  her.  I  know  that  I  am  doing  a  great 
wrong  in  not  appearing  at  this  trial,  and  proving  that  Will 
to  be  a  forgery;  and  night  and  morning  I  pray  to  God  to 
forgive  me  ;  but  I  cannot  turn  against  George  —  now,  when 
ho  has  none  to  stand  by  him.  No  !  no  ! ' 

'You  are  indeed  doing  a  great  wrong,  Lucy,'  said  Phil 
lips,  'if  you  know  this  Will  to  bii  a  fraudulent  one,  and  do 
not  expo.-M-  the  fraud,  come  what  may.' 

'I  know  it,  Jack  —  I  know  it.  You  cannot  think  me. 
more  criminal  than  I  think  myself.  Remorse  and  anxiety 
have  made  sad  work  here,'  said  she,  pressing  her  hand  on 
her  heart;  'yet  I  would  sutler  ten  times  what  I  have,  to 
screen  him  from  detection.  Could  the  guilt  and  punishment 
fall  on  me,  I  would  not  hesitate  one  moment  to  speak  all 
that  I  know  and  all  that  I  suspect.  Jack,'  said  she,  suspi 
ciously,  'you  will  not  betray  what,  1  am  telling  you?' 

'  No,  no  !  but  do  n't  tell  me  any  t  hing  more,  for  I  begin  to 
feel  guilty  already.' 

'  Well,  well,  I  will  not,'  said  she  ;  '  but  you  will  assist  mo 
to  find  some  means  of  gaining  an  honest  living  ?  I  would 
not  trouble  you  ;  but  I  am  not  strong  enough  to  go  abroad 
and  seek  them  myself.' 

Phillips  took  her  hand  in  his,  and  spread  the  thin  white 
lingers  on  his  own  large  palm.     '  Lucy,'  said  he,  *  look  at 
14 


314  THE    ATTORNEY. 

these  fingers.  What  can  they  do?  They  have  scarcely 
strength  enough  to  crush  a  straw,  and  are  as  hot  as  fire ; 
and  each  one  throbs  as  if  there  were  a  pulse  in  it ;  and  yet 
you  talk  of  work  !  Work,  indeed  !  Do  n't  think  of  it ;  but 
take  care  of  yourself ;  and  if  you  will  not  stay  here,  go  and 
seek  a  home  elsewhere,  and  I  will  pay  for  it.  When  you 
get  strong  and  well,  you  can  return  the  loan.  Do  n't  be 
afraid  that  I  will  trouble  you ;  for  from  the  time  that  you 
leave  this  house  I  '11  not  see  you  again  unless  you  want  as 
sistance.  Even  George,  jealous  as  he  is,  can  find  no  fault 
with  that.  If  he  will  not  take  care  of  you  himself,  he  has 
no  right  to  blame  those  who  would  offer  you  a  shelter.  If 
I  see  him,  he  shall  have  a  piece  of  my  mind.' 

'  Stop,  Jack  ! '  said  Lucy,  placing  her  hand  on  his  arm  ; 
'  George  has  already  enough  to  drive  him  mad.  Do  n't 
goad  him  farther.  He 's  sorry  for  all  that  he  has  done  — 
I  'in  sure  of  it.  You  '11  do  what  I  asked,  won't  you  ? ' 

4  Yes,  yes  ;  but  do  n't  be  hasty,'  said  Phillips. 

'  Thank  you,  Jack.  You  must  go  now ;  for  I  am  very 
feeble,  and  it  takes  but  little  to  weary  me.' 

'  But  what  answer  do  you  make  to  my  offer  ? ' 

'None,  none  —  none.  I'll  think  of  it.  The  time  may 
come  when  I  may  be  less  able  to  work ;  so  ill  that  I  must 
be  a  burden  to  some  one.  Until  then  I  can  give  you  no 
answer.' 

Phillips  looked  at  her  wasted  face,  and  those  features, 
which  were  already  becoming  pinched  and  sharp,  and  those 
bright  glowing  eyes ;  and  he  answered  in  a  sad  tone  :  '  Well, 
Lucy,  if  you  do  n't  come  till  then,  God  grant  that  you  may 
not  call  on  me  soon  !  but  you  '11  always  find  me  ready- 
Good-bye  !  God  bless  you  ! ' 

*  Stop,  Phillips  ! '  said  she,  as  he  was  turning  to  go,  and 
speaking  in  a  very  low  tone;  'one  word.  If  any  thing 


THE    ATTORNEY.  315 

should  happen,  and  I  should  not  see  you  again,  and  you 
should  hear  that  I  am  dead,  and  should  see  George,  tell  him 
that  I  thought  of  him,  and  forgave  him  all  that  had  passed 
between  us  ;  and  that  I  had  no  hard  thoughts  of  him.' 

'  Do  n't  talk  so,  Lucy,'  said  Phillips,  compressing  his  lips ; 
for  he  was  beginning  to  feel  a  strange  sensation  about  the 
throat.  'Don't  —  why  should  you?  You  seem  very  ill, 
certainly,  but  not  so  bad  as  that.  You  may  get  well  yet ; 
only  you  must  not  talk  of  working,  that 's  all.  You  're 
young.  It 's  only  trouble,  Lucy,  that 's  killing  you.' 

Lucy  shook  her  head. 

'  I  do  n't  know,  Jack  ;  I  have  never  been  right  since  I  saw 
the  lawyer.  Something  gave  way  here  then,'  said  she,  plac 
ing  her  hand  over  her  heart ;  '  but  no  matter.  Tell  him  that 
I  loved  him  to  the  last ;  and  that  my  last  thought  was  of 
him.  Perhaps,  when  I'm  out  of  his  way,  he  will  think 
kindly  of  me.  Good-bye  ! ' 

She  reached  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  he  took  it,  and 
pressed  the  wasted  fingers.  "  Good-bye !  Lucy,  good-bye. 
I  '11  see  you  again.  I  '11  come  to-morrow.  You  seem  faint 
now  ;  but  perhaps  you  '11  be  better  then.' 

'  Perhaps  so  ;  perhaps  so.' 

Phillips  rubbed  his  hand  across  his  eyes  and  went  out. 

Lucy  leaned  her  head  back,  and  from  the  window  she  had 
a  distant  view  of  the  river  and  fields  of  the  opposite  shore. 
Although  it  was  winter,  it  was  a  soft  glowing  day,  and  the 
air  played  freely  through  the  open  window.  It  seemed 
purer  and  more  refreshing  than  she  had  ever  felt  it  before. 
How  charming  the  landscape  was !  Far-distant  objects 
loomed  up  until  she  fancied  that  she  could  touch  them ; 
and  yet  every  thing  was  very  beautiful.  Oh  !  how  rich  and 
blue  and  unfathomable  was  that  deep  sky !  Did  she  dream  ?  — 
or  were  there  bright  shadows  flitting  in  the  sun-beams,  and 


316  THE    ATTORNEY. 

glad  faces  smiling  kindly  upon  her,  and  the  soft  eyes  of  her 
mother  looking  mildly  in  hers,  and  voices  of  friends  long 
forgotten  whispering  in  her  ears,  and  their  loved  forms 
hovering  about  her,  and  filling  that  poor  heart  with  joy  and 
gladness,  such  as  it  had  never  known  since  she  was  a  child  ? 
She  knew  not,  she  thought  not.  The  past  seemed  receding. 
Her  troubles  grew  more  and  more  distant ;  they  faded  from 
her  mind  like  things  dreamed  of  long  ago,  and  indistinctly 
caught  up  in  snatches  by  memory ;  and  then  they  vanished 
altogether,  and  her  eyes  closed. 

The  sun  shone  brightly  over  her  pale  face,  and  the  western 
wind  dallied  with  her  hair.  The  breeze  died  away,  the  sun 
sank,  and  the  pale  moon-light  played  through  the  room,  and 
the  air  grew  damp  and  heavy  with  the  dews  of  night.  Hour 
after  hour  passed.  The  moon  disappeared,  and  the  room 
became  dark.  Still  Lucy  awoke  not.  Light  and  darkness 
were  the  same  to  her  now  ;  for  the  poor  broken  heart  was 
still  for  ever.  Her  sorrows  and  troubles  were  over ;  and 
Wilkins  had  lost  —  what  he  was  never  again  destined  to 
find  —  one  who  loved  him  more  than  life. 

THERE  was  a  country  church,  far  away  from  the  gloomy 
walls  of  the  city,  and  buried  in  trees  ;  and  close  by  it  was  a 
quiet,  shadowy  grave-yard,  filled  with  tall,  solemn  elms,  and 
old  willows,  with  their  long  limbs  drooping  down  to  the 
grass  and  brushing  the  tomb-stones.  Lucy  had  often  lain 
under  them  when  a  child,  and  watched  the  birds  playing  in 
the  branches,  and  listened  to  the  wind  as  it  whispered  through 
the  leaves ;  and  she  thought  that  there  were  voices  speaking 
to  her,  and  she  had  answered  them ;  and  she  had  talked  to 
the  birds  as  they  flew  from  twig  to  twig ;  and  they  seemed  to 
understand  her,  to  peep  inquisitively  down,  but  never  to  fear 
her.  Poor  Lucy  !  it  was  her  play-ground  then,  and  of  late  she 


THE    ATTORNEY.  317 

had  often  looked  to  it  as  her  place  of  rest.  She  had  been 
very  happy  there  once,  and  she  fancied  that  it  would  be  more 
peaceful  than  any  other  spot  on  earth.  In  that  quiet  old 
church-yard,  where  the  bright  sun  could  shine  upon  her 
grave,  and  the  flowers  blossom  in  the  spring,  and  where  there 
was  nothing  to  shut  out  the  blue  sky,  except  the  waving 
boughs  of  the  old  trees  that  she  had  loved  —  there  they 
buried  her.  Not  far  off  was  her  native  village,  a  small 
sequestered  place,  where  she  had  passed  the  brightest  part 
of  her  life.  Many  a  bright-eyed  girl  stole  away  from  her 
home  in  that  little  town  to  see  the  burial.  They  were  those 
who  had  played  with  her  in  days  long  past ;  and  they  lin 
gered  about  the  grave  as  if  sad  to  part  with  an  old  friend, 
from  whom  they  had  been  so  long  separated.  'Poor  thing! ' 
said  a  gray-haired  old  man :  '  I  knew  her  when  she  was 
a  laughing  little  creature,  almost  a  baby ;  she  played  here 
often.  She  was  a  merry,  light-hearted  girl  then ;  I  hope 
she  was  always  so.  She  was  very  young  to  die  ;  very  young. 
I  hope  she  had  a  happy  life ! '  He  turned  away,  patted  on 
the  head  a  child  who  stood  by  him,  and  sauntered  off  to  his 
own  home. 


318  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Two  days  after  the  trial  before  the  Surrogate,  Higgs 
walked  abruptly  into  the  attorney's  office.  His  face  had 
not  the  look  of  cheerful  indifference  which  usually  marked 
it.  His  brow  was  knit,  and  his  mouth  pinched  up,  as  if 
thoughts  not  of  the  most  agreeable  character  were  forcing 
themselves  upon  him. 

'  I  'm  glad  you  're  in,'  said  he,  going  up  to  the  chair  in 
which  Bolton  was  bending  over  some  law-papers.  '  Have 
you  got  a  decision  yet  about  the  Will  ? ' 

Bolton  shook  his  head. 

'  Well,  I  did  n't  come  about  that.  I  came  to  tell  you  of 
Wilkins.' 

The  attorney  laid  down  a  pen  which  he  held  in  his  hand, 
and  with  which  he  had  been  making  memoranda,  and  looked 
nervously  at  Higgs;  for  there  was  something  in  his  face 
which  struck  him  as  unusual,  and  every  thing  alarmed  him 
now. 

'  Why  do  you  stop  ?     What  of  him  ? '  demanded  he. 

*  You  Ve  used  him  up,'  replied  Higgs.  '  He 's  on  his  back, 
raving  mad.  They  say  he  '11  die.' 

The  attorney  started  up,  and  involuntarily  clasped  his 
hands.  'Well,  go  on.  Where  is  he,  and  what  do  you 
want  ? ' 

'  The  place  he 's  in  is  no  place  for  a  living  man  to  be  in. 
He  must  be  moved,'  said  Higgs.  *  It  is  n't  even  fit  for  a  dog 
to  die  in.  I  want  you  to  see  to  him.' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  319 

*  What  ails  him  ? '  demanded  the  attorney.     '  Tell  me  more 
about  him.     What  is  the  matter  ? ' 

'  You  know  how  he  was  the  day  we  had  that  little  matter 
of  yours  on  hand.  He  grew  worse  and  worse ;  and  that 
night  he  talked  odd,  and  muttered  to  himself;  and  his 
hands  were  as  hot  as  fire.  The  next  day  he  was  down  ;  and 
that  night  he  was  stark  mad.  He  talked  so,  that  it  made 
even  my  hair  stand  on  end.' 

'  What  does  he  speak  about  ? ' 

'  Sometimes  of  his  wife,  and  sometimes  of  you,  and  some 
times  of  the  Will.  It's  what's  on  his  mind  that's  killing 
him.  I  'm  afraid  he  can't  stand  it  long.  You  must  do  some 
thing  for  him.  He 's  done  a  good  deal  for  you,'  said  Higgs, 
in  a  sullen  tone. 

'  Yes,  yes,  I  will.  I  '11  see  him  to-night,'  said  Bolton,  hur 
riedly.  '  He  shall  be  well  cared  for.' 

*  That  alone  is  n't  enough.     You  must  do  more,'   said 
Higgs.     '  I  told  you  that  he  was  out  of  his  head ;  and  when 
the  fever  is  on  him,  his  tongue  wags  wildly ;  and  he  talks  of 
what  would  blast  us  all,  root  and  branch.' 

'Ha!' 

'  I  've  watched  with  him  till  I  'm  worn  out.  You  must 
take  your  turn.  He 's  in  his  senses  now,  and  will  be  till  the 
fever  comes  on.  When  will  you  come  1 ' 

'  To-night.     Where  shall  I  find  him  ? ' 

Higgs  took  a  pen  and  scrawled  the  address  on  a  piece  of 
paper. 

'  Who  lives  in  the  house  beside  him  ? '  inquired  the  lawyer, 
reading  the  address. 

'  None  but  the  rats.  Even  thieves  keep  clear  of  it,  for 
fear  it  will  fall  on  'em.  I  hate  to  go  in  the  door.  He  has 
been  there  ever  since  he  drove  his  wife  out  of  doors.  He 


320  THE    ATTORNEY. 

has  a  doctor  who  comes  at  night.  I  never  leave  them  alone 
together.  I  can't  be  there  to-night,  so  you  must.' 

*  Yes,  yes,  I  must  indeed,'  muttered  Bolton.  *  He  must 
be  watched  closely.  If  he  dies,  he  must  leave  no  sign  — 
nothing  that  can  implicate  us.  Does  he  know  that  he'll 
die?' 

Higgs  shook  his  head.  *  I  would  n't  tell  him,  for  fear  he  M 
grow  penitent,  and  let  out  what  is  best  known  only  to  our 
selves.  He 's  not  what  he  used  to  be.  A  year  ago  he  would 
have  died  without  flinching ;  but  he 's  a  child  now.  He 's 
touched  here,  I  think,'  said  he,  tapping  his  forehead.  '  I  wish 
he  had  n't  a  finger  in  this  pie  of  ours  —  that 's  all.  He 's 
not  the  man  for  it.' 

'  I  wish  so,  too,  with  all  my  heart,'  said  Bolton. 

Higgs  turned  to  the  door.  '  You  '11  let  me  know  when 
you  hear  from  the  Surrogate  ? ' 

'Yes,  I  will.' 

Higgs  gave  a  nod,  intended  partly  as  an  expression  ot 
leave-taking,  and  partly  to  settle  his  hat  on  his  head,  and 
went  out,  slamming  the  door  after  him. 

No  sooner  had  the  sound  of  his  steps  died  away  than 
Bolton  burst  out  into  a  loud,  mocking  laugh : 

'  Let  him  die  !  so  his  secret  dies  with  him  !  One  less  to 
fear — to  bribe  and  cringe  and  truckle  to.  Let  him  die! 
Would  to  God  that  I  could  find  him  stiff  and  stark  when  I 
go  there !  Then  I  would  have  only  one  to  watch.  William 
Higgs,  I  would  have  only  you  !  Well,  well ;  I  '11  go  there, 
and  when  there,  I'll  see  what  must  be  done.'  And  the 
attorney  sat  down,  and  went  on  with  his  writing  as  calmly 
as  before. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  Bolton  sought  the  sick  man's 
house.  The  air  was  raw  and  chilly,  and  the  wind  swept  in 


THE    ATTORNEY.  321 

.ow  and  hollow  murmurs  among  the  dilapidated  walls. 
Mounting  a  narrow  stair-case,  which  creaked  and  trembled 
beneath  his  tread,  and  passing  along  a  dark  entry,  he  opened 
a  door,  and  found  himself  in  a  room  separated  only  by  a 
frail  sash-door  from  that  occupied  by  the  person  whom  he 
sought.  Stretched  on  a  dirty  mat,  and  scarcely  covered  by 
the  rags  which  served  as  bed-clothes,  there  he  lay ;  his  eyes 
glassy,  his  cheeks  fallen,  his  jaws  prominent,  and  lips  shrunken, 
showing  teeth  like  fangs.  The  thin,  long  fingers  which 
clutched  the  ragged  coverlet  more  closely  about  him  were 
like  talons.  As  soon  as  he  saw  Bolton,  he  drew  up  the  bed 
clothes  and  turned  his  back  toward  him,  at  the  same  time 
asking : 

'  Well,  what  do  you  want  ? ' 

'  I  am  come  to  see  how  you  are,  and  to  ask  if  you  want 
any  thing.  Has  the  doctor  been  here  ? ' 

'  Yes,  he  has.  What  does  he  say  about  me  ?  Will  I  get 
over  this  ? '  asked  Wilkins,  raising  himself  on  his  elbow,  and 
looking  the  lawyer  sharply  in  the  face.  '  None  of  your  lying  ! 
Tell  me  truth.  Will  I  get  well,  I  say  ? ' 

'  Yes,  yes,  Wilkins,'  said  the  lawyer,  in  a  hesitating  tone ; 
'  to  be  sure  you  will.  In  a  week  you  '11  be  quite  strong.' 

*  Will  I  ? '  said  Wilkins,  sinking  back  exhausted.  '  Well, 
I  'm  d d  weak  now.' 

'  Oh,  that  won't  last !  In  a  few  days  you  '11  be  well ;  and 
in  a  fortnight,  ready  to  go  on  with  that  divorce-suit  to  get 
rid  of  your  wife.' 

A  sharp  twitch,  as  of  a  sudden  pain,  shot  across  Wilkins's 
face  at  the  mention  of  his  wife.  '  Curse  it !  man,  can't  you 
talk  of  something  more  agreeable  ?  One  do  n't  always  want 
to  hear  of  her.  If  I  had  not  driven  her  off  like  a  dog,  I  'd 
not  been  lying  here  without  a  soul  to  give  me  a  drink  when 
14* 


322  THE    ATTORNEY. 

I  'm  half  mad  with  thirst.  God  only  knows  where  she  is  ! 
I  have  n't  heard  of  her  since  the  night  that  I  met  her  in  the 
street.  Do  n't  talk  of  her  ! ' 

'  Well,  then,  of  the  widow.  What  Fisk  said  at  the  trial 
can  be  explained  away,  you  know.' 

'  Nor  of  her  now.     Wait  till  I  'm  on  my  legs.' 

'  Well.  Will  you  hear  of  my  plans  ?  —  of  the  Will  ?  We 
managed  that  gloriously  !  You  have  n't  peached  ? ' 

*  No,  I  have  n't ;  but  it  hangs  like  lead  here?  said  he, 
thumping  his  hand  against  his  head ;  '  here,  here,  HERE  ! 
And  at  times,  when  I  'm  crazy  with  pain  and  fever,  I  have 
strange  images  whirling  and  dancing  and  twisting  about  me ; 
and  oftenest  of  all  comes  that  old  man  Crawford,  and  his 
daughter.  I  'm  afraid  I  've  said  things  that  I  should  not ; 
for  I  Ve  caught  that  doctor  looking  at  me  as  frightened  as 
if  I  were  the  Devil  himself;  and  if  I  get  mad  again,  I'm 
afraid  I  '11  say  more.' 

The  pale  face  of  the  attorney  grew  several  shades  paler ; 
and  he  drew  his  breath  quick  and  short ;  and  his  hands  shook 
as  he  said,  '  God  !  Wilkins,  you  have  n't  blabbed  ?  You 
swore — you  remember  that  oath  ? ' 

'So  I  do ;  and  when  I  'm  in  my  senses  I  '11  never  blow 
you ;  but  when  my  head 's  turned  and  my  mind  gone,  I  'm 
not  answerable  for  my  words.  If  I  blow  you  then,  I  can't 
help  it.' 

'•Indeed ! '  exclaimed  the  attorney.  He  clenched  his 
fingers  together  until  the  blood  nearly  started  from  his  nails. 
'  When  does  the  doctor  come  ? '  asked  he,  in  a  voice  scarcely 
articulate. 

'It's  time  now,  I  should  think.  He  generally  comes 
when  the  church-clock  at  the  corner  strikes  nine.  It 's 
almost  that  now.'  While  he  was  speaking,  a  heavy  step 


THE    ATTORNEY.  323 

was  heard  in  the  passage ;  and  the  door  opened  and  the 
physician  entered. ,  He  was  a  short,  stout  man,  with  broad 
shoulders  and  keen  black  eyes. 

As  he  came  in,  he  cast  a  hasty  glance  at  the  attorney ; 
and  without  speaking,  went  directly  to  the  sick  man  and 
took  his  hand. 

Wilkins  watched  him.  '  Well,  Doctor,  how  do  you  find 
me?' 

The  doctor  made  no  reply,  but  beckoning  the  attorney  to 
follow  him,  went  into  the  next  room  and  shut  the  door. 

'  You  're  acquainted  with  this  man  1 '  asked  he. 

'  I  am,'  replied  Bolton.     *  How  is  he  ? ' 

'He'll  die — nothing  can  save  him !' replied  the  physi 
cian,  gnawing  on  the  end  of  a  whip  which  he  held  in  his 
hand.  '  But  that 's  not  all.  He 's  had  a  hand  in  some 
devil's  mischief  which  I  'd  like  to  sift  before  he  goes.  When 
he  's  in  his  senses,  he  is  close-mouthed  enough  ;  but  in  his 
crazy  fits  he  has  let  out  things  that  have  made  me  start.  If 
he  sees  to-morrow's  sun,  I  '11  be  here.  At  that  time  he 's 
worst,  and  I  '11  learn  what  I  can.  He  may  die  before  that, 
and  he  may  last  some  time  yet ;  it 's  quite  uncertain.' 

'  Open  that  door ! '  shouted  Wilkins  from  the  next  room. 
'  What  are  you  whispering  about  ?  I  am  not  going  to  die, 
am  I  ? '  said  he,  half  sitting  up  in  bed,  as  his  request  was 
complied  with,  and  glaring  at  the  attorney  with  eyes  that 
made  his  flesh  creep :  'Am  I  going  to  die,  I  say  ?  Why 
do  n't  you  answer  me,  instead  of  standing  shivering  there, 
with  your  teeth  chattering  as  if  you  were  frightened  to 
death  ?  Will  I  get  well  ? '  exclaimed  he,  turning  to  the 
doctor. 

'  Not  if  you  go  on  in  that  way.  Lie  down  and  compose 
yourself,  and  we  can  judge  better  to-morrow.' 

'  Because  you  '11  find  me  dead  !     That 's  what  you  mean,' 


324  THE    ATTORNEY. 

said  Wilkins,  with  a  ghastly  grin  which  made  them  shud 
der.  '  Get  away,  both  of  you  —  both  of  you  !  Curse  you 
both  !  You  would  murder  me.  Out  of  my  sight !  And 
you ! '  exclaimed  he,  shaking  his  attenuated  hand  at  the 
attorney ;  '  and  you,  who  led  me  on.' 

The  doctor  turned  to  the  attorney,  and  surveyed  him  from 
head  to  foot,  as  if  the  meaning  of  the  words  of  the  patient 
might  be  more  fully  explained  by  this  investigation. 
'  What  does  he  mean  ? '  demanded  he. 
'  He  's  raving.    He  does  n't  know  what  he  's  talking  about.' 
'Don't   I!'  shouted  Wilkins;    'don't  I!     Out   of  my 
sight ! '  and  he  shook  his  fist  at  them,  gnashing  his  teeth ; 
*  out  of  my  sight,  liar !  tempter  !  away  with  you  ! ' 

1  We  are  increasing  the  violence  of  his  paroxysm  by  re 
maining  here,'  said  Bolton,  nervously  ;  '  let 's  go.' 

The  doctor  looked  once  more  at  his  patient,  then  again 
at  the  lawyer,  and  finally  suffered  himself  to  be  led  out. 

Crouching  like  a  wild  beast,  and  with  the  bed-clothes  ga 
thered  tightly  about  him,  Wilkins  remained  in  a  state  of 
stupid  fear  after  their  departure.  Every  sense  was  concen 
trated  in  the  single  one  of  feeling.  He  did  not  dare  to  draw 
a  long  breath,  lest  it  should  snap  the  cord  which  bound  his 
wretched  body  to  life.  Every  sharp  throe  that  shot  through 
him  sent  a  pang  of  mortal  fear  to  his  heart.  Nor  was  his 
brain  idle.  Images  of  the  past  came  crowding  upon  him. 
He  thought  of  his  wife ;  he  saw  her  pale  and  wan  face  look 
ing  at  him  mournfully,  but  as  affectionately  as  ever.  Then 
came  the  features  of  Miss  Crawford ;  then  these  all  swept 
away,  and  his  mind,  recovering  its  balance,  brought  him 
back  to  the  present.  He  looked  about  the  room  ;  he  thought 
of  himself.  He  stretched  out  his  long  bony  arm,  and  fancied 
how  it  would  look  when  the  grave-worm  was  battening  upon 
it.  He  seemed  to  feel  his  frame  decaying  in  the  grave. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  325 

He  felt  the  hot,  stifling  air  of  the  coffin.  The  thought  drove 
him  to  madness ;  and  with  a  fierce,  frantic  effort  he  rose  to 
his  feet,  and  uttering  a  laugh  of  mingled  terror  and  frenzy, 
hurraed  until  the  room  echoed,  and  then  fell  exhausted  to 
the  floor. 

He  was  recalled  to  himself  by  feeling  a  hand  upon  his 
own,  and  hearing  the  voice  of  the  attorney. 

*  I  'm  glad  to  see  you,  Bolton,'  said  he,  faintly.     '  I  Ve  had 
a  bad  turn  since  you  went  out,  but  am  better  now.     Help  me 
to  bed.' 

The  other,  placing  his  arm  under  him,  assisted  him  to  the 
narrow  pallet  which  formed  his  couch,  and  covered  him  up, 
tucking  the  cover  far  beneath  between  the  bed  and  floor,  and 
laying  the  hands  of  the  sick  man  under  it.  Having  done 
this,  he  seated  himself  in  front  of  him. 

'  What  do  you  look  at  me  so  for  ? '  demanded  Wilkins, 
who,  whenever  he  raised  his  eyes,  encountered  those  of 
Bolton  fixed  on  his  face. 

'  How  do  you  feel  ? '  asked  Bolton,  without  replying  to  his 
question.  '  Do  n't  you  think  you  could  sleep  ?  It  would 
strengthen  you.' 

'  No,  I  '11  never  sleep  any  more,'  replied  the  sick  man,  tes 
tily.  '  Keep  your  eyes  off  me,  will  you  ?  They  remind  me 
of  the  Devil's.  Keep  them  off,  or  I  '11  force  you  to.' 

*  You  forget  that  you  are  too  weak  to  harm  me,'  returned 
the  attorney,  with  a  sneer.     *  But  I  came  back  to  have  a 
parting  word  with  you.     You  have  broken  your  oath,  and 
now  look  to  yourself ! ' 

'  If  I  have,  I  did  it  when  I  was  out  of  my  head,  and  per 
haps  may  do  it  again ;  but  that 's  not  my  fault.  I  'm  as 
deep  in  that  Will  matter  as  you  are,  and  run  as  much  risk. 
If  I  must  be  shut  up  for  it  when  I  get  well,  I  must ;  and 
there  's  the  end  of  it. 


326  THE    ATTORNEY. 

*  Not  quite,'  said  Bolton,  edging  nearer,  and  bending  down 
on  his  knees,  his  lips  quivering  with  intense  wrath :  '  not 
quite.  You  Ve  to  give  an  account  to  me  first ;  and,  by  G  —  d  ! 
you  shall !  —  here,  on  this  very  spot  —  a  fearful  one  ! ' 

'  My  God  !  Bolton,  what  do  you  mean  ? '  exclaimed  Wil- 
kins,  attempting  to  sit  up.  But  Bolton  thrust  him  back  with 
a  violence  that  made  his  head  thump  against  the  floor,  even 
through  the  pillow. 

'  You  '11  find  out  my  meaning  soon  enough  ! '  said  he,  drag 
ging  the  pillow  from  under  Wilkins's  head,  and  seating  himself 
astride  of  his  breast.  If  ever  mortal  countenance  bore  the 
impress  of  agonizing  fear,  it  was  stamped  upon  that  of  the 
sick  man.  But  still  he  attempted  to  laugh  —  and  such  a 
laugh!  —  a  wild,  discordant  shout,  whose  tones  deepened 
into  a  yell  of  terror ;  for  Bolton  was  attempting  to  thrust  the 
pillow  over  his  mouth.  Sick,  feeble,  dying  though  he  was, 
the  struggle  was  fearful.  Twice  was  the  pillow  thrust  upon 
his  mouth,  and  as  often  forced  away  by  the  victim.  He  suc 
ceeded  in  extricating  his  arms  from  the  bed-clothes,  and  fast 
ening  his  fingers  in  the  hair  of  the  assassin,  by  sheer  violence 
he  bore  him  back  to  the  floor.  Bolton  leaped  to  his  feet,  and 
Wilkins  did  the  same.  Hardened  as  the  lawyer  was,  he 
shrank  from  the  blazing  eye  and  maniac  look  of  the  frantic 
and  desperate  man  who  confronted  him.  It  was  but  for  a 
moment.  Again  he  sprang  upon  him,  and  bore  him  to  the 
floor ;  and  before  he  could  recover  himself,  he  seized  the  bed, 
threw  it  directly  upon  him,  sprang  upon  it,  and  stretching 
himself  at  full  length  upon  it,  held  it  down  by  the  whole 
weight  of  his  body.  Terrible  indeed  were  the  struggles  of 
the  wretch  who  writhed  and  twisted  beneath  !  But  Bolton 
kept  his  hold  until  they  grew  more  and  more  feeble,  the 
smothered  cries  ceased,  and  all  was  quiet.  Then  he  rose, 
spread  the  bed  as  before,  and  dragging  the  body  to  it, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  327 

deposited  it  in  its  place,  removing  all  traces  of  the  struggle, 
and  composing  the  limbs,  as  if  the  troubled  spirit  which  had 
once  animated  that  clay  had  gone  on  its  long  journey  with 
out  mortal  intervention. 

While  he  was  bending  over  the  ghastly  face  of  his  victim, 
he  heard  a  step  on  the  stairs.  Instinctively  he  sprang  through 
the  door  and  into  the  entry.  At  the  head  of  the  stairs  he 
met  a  man  who  spoke  to  him.  He  recognized  the  voice  of 
the  physician,  but  made  no  reply ;  and  hurrying  past  him, 
darted  into  the  street.  Up  one  street  and  down  another  he 
ran,  doubling  and  turning  as  if  the  beagles  of  the  law  were 
already  at  his  heels ;  only  walking  to  recover  breath,  and 
then  dashing  off  like  the  wind,  as  his  excited  fears  converted 
each  cry  in  the  street  inta  a  sound  of  pursuit.  But  at  length, 
weary  and  broken  down,  he  found  himself  at  the  door  of 
his  office. 


328  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

PALE,  conscience-stricken,  with  images  of  fear  and  horror 
forcing  themselves  into  his  very  brain,  Bolton  sat  in  his  office 
that  night.  There  was  a  heavy  consciousness  of  crime  and 
blood  upon  him  that  he  had  never  felt  before.  He  had  left 
Wilkins  stiff  and  stark  in  his  own  room,  dead  —  dead  ;  yet 
he  was  up  and  after  him  now.  Amid  all  the  fancied  sounds 
of  pursuit,  the  dead  man  glided  along.  He  never  saw  him, 
but  he  knew  that  he  was  behind  him,  gazing  at  him  with 
that  same  cold,  passionless  eye  which  had  met  his  as  he 
flung  him  dead  upon  his  bed.  It  made  his  blood  run  cold. 
He  changed  his  seat ;  but  the  spectre  was  still  behind  him. 
He  felt  it.  In  very  desperation,  he  heaped  the  fire  with  fuel, 
and  lighted  candle  after  candle,  until  every  chink  and  cranny 
in  the  time-stained  room  was  perceptible.  Still  behind  him 
sat  the  murdered  man,  with  his  eye  fixed  upon  him.  It  never 
moved,  but  seemed  to  look  him  through  and  through.  He 
could  not  bear  it.  Come  what  might,  he  would  face  it ;  he 
would  look  it  down,  if  he  died.  Rising  up  and  half  stagger 
ing,  he  faced  about.  Ha !  it  was  too  quick  for  him !  It  was 
behind  him  again  !  God  !  was  that  a  sigh  that  he  heard  ? 
He  gasped  for  breath  and  listened  again.  It  was  only  the 
wind  wailing  through  the  casement.  Yet  so  fierce  had  been 
the  pang,  that  he  sank  back  in  his  chair,  with  the  perspira 
tion  standing  in  large  drops  upon  his  forehead.  Starting  up, 
he  went  to  the  shelf,  and  lifting  a  pitcher  containing  water 
to  his  lips,  drank  off,  at  huge  gulps,  nearly  the  whole  of  its 
contents.  He  then  sat  down  at  the  table  and  attempted  to 


THE    ATTORNEY,  329 

write,  but  his  mind  wandered ;  for  almost  every  line  was 
erased,  interlined,  and  altered ;  and  at  length  he  dashed  his 
pen  from  him,  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair,  and  sat  list 
lessly  muttering  in  a  low  tone.  Several  hours  had  passed  in 
this  way,  and  he  was  first  brought  to  himself  by  hearing  a 
step  on  the  stairs.  Slow,  deliberate,  and  solemn  it  came. 
There  was  no  haste  in  that  tread,  no  hesitation.  The  first 
feeling  of  the  attorney  was  one  of  the  most  abject  terror. 
His  limbs  shook  ;  his  fingers  clenched  together  involuntarily, 
and  the  quick,  hard  pulsations  of  his  heart  might  have  been 
distinctly  heard.  The  step  ascended  the  stairs.  His  first 
impulse  was  to  secure  the  door ;  but  the  utter  uselessness  of 
such  a  precaution  struck  him  at  the  same  instant.  And  then 
.the  improbability  that  the  murder  had  yet  been  discovered 
flashed  across  his  mind,  and  he  had  barely  time  to  seat  him 
self,  when  a  hand  rested  on  the  knob,  and  the  door  was 
opened. 

His  visitor  was  a  short,  square-built  man,  with  dark  Jew 
ish  features,  a  bald  head,  a  Roman  nose,  with  a  wart  on  it, 
a  heavy  eye-brow,  and  half-closed  eyes,  which,  together  with 
a  drooping  under-lip,  would  have  given  rather  a  sleepy  look 
to  his  countenance,  had  it  not  been  redeemed  by  two  very 
bright  black  eyes,  which  were  slyly  peering  from  under  the 
corner  of  their  lids,  in  strong  contrast  to  the  heavy  linea 
ments  of  the  rest  of  his  face.  His  frame  was  muscular  and 
heavy  ;  though  he  trod  with  the  quiet,  stealthy  step  of  a  cat. 

His  first  movement,  on  entering  the  room  and  ascertaining 
that  Bolton  was  there,  was  to  lock  the  door  and  put  the  key 
in  his  pocket.  Then,  going  into  the  back  office,  he  pushed 
a  chair  to  the  fire,  and  drawing  off  his  gloves,  held  his  short, 
strong  fingers  over  the  flame.  Bolton's  heart  sank  as  he 
recognized  in  his  visitor  the  most  noted  and  vigilant  officer 
of  the  city  police.  But  as  real  danger  approached,  his  ima- 


330  THE    ATTORNEY. 

ginary  ones  vanished  ;  and  he  prepared  to  play  his  part  with 
that  coolness  and  skill  which  was  one  of  his  great  character 
istics,  and  which  had  guided  him  safely  past  many  a  rock  on 
which  his  previous  roguery  had  nearly  wrecked  him. 

Bowing  to  his  visitor,  and  requesting  him  to  excuse  him 
for  a  moment,  he  pretended  to  read  a  paper  which  he  held 
in  his  hand,  while,  in  reality,  he  was  arranging  in  his  mind 
the  best  mode  of  meeting  the  officer. 

'  Well,  Mr.  Tike,  I  'm  at  your  service,'  said  he  at  length, 
placing  the  paper  on  the  table.  '  What  can  I  do  for  you  ? ' 

'  Put  on  your  hat  and  over-coat,'  responded  Mr.  Tike, 
laconically. 

*  With  pleasure,  if  it  is  necessary,'  replied  Bolton,  some 
what  startled  at  the  stern,  abrupt  tone  of  the  speaker.     '  But 
what  is  the  nature  of  the  business  ;  and  where  am  I  to  go  ? ' 

*  The  natur'  is  oncommon ;  the  place,  the  Lock-up.' 
Bolton  felt  a  chilling  presentiment  of  the  worst ;  but  —  he 

would  not  give  up  while  there  was  a  chance. 

'Ah  ! '  said  he,  thoughtfully ;  '  some  poor  fellow  in  trouble. 
What  is  it  ?  Debt  or  felony  ?  or  what  ? ' 

'  Felony  of  the  first  degree,'  replied  Mr.  Tike,  holding  up 
his  thick  foot  to  the  fire,  while  he  applied  his  handkerchief 
to  his  nose. 

'  Is  he  in  prison  ? '  demanded  Bolton,  for  the  purpose  of 
sifting  more  thoroughly  the  enigmatical  meaning  of  the 
officer. 

*  He  's  as  good  as  in,'  replied  Mr.  Tike,  feeling  the  key  in 
his  pocket.     '  He  '11  soon  be ;  he 's  took.' 

Again  the  attorney  experienced  that  foreboding  of  ill 
which  had  so  nearly  unmanned  him  when  he  heard  the  first 
step  of  his  visitor  in  the  passage.  But  a  single  glance  at  the 
half-closed  and  watchful  eye  of  the  policeman  showed  him 
the  necessity  of  rallying  his  energies  ;  for  the  slightest  tremor 


THE    ATTORNEY.  331 

or  a  single  equivocal  word  might  lead  him  to  the  gallows  ; 
and  assuming  a  careless  manner,  he  approached  the  peg 
where  his  over-coat  hung,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  taking  it 
down.  Then  pausing,  he  turned  to  the  officer,  and  said  : 

'As  this  person  is  not  yet  in  prison,  and  I  have  several 
matters  of  importance  to  attend  to,  I  would  be  glad  if  you 
could  send  some  one  to  let  me  know  when  he  is  in.  It 
would  save  my  time,  which  is  precious  ;  and  I  would  go  to 
him  immediately. 

'•It  won't  do,  Mr.  Bolton,'  replied  Mr.  Tike,  with  something 
between  a  wink  and  a  leer.  '  He  's  took,  as  I  said  afore.' 

'  Well,  then,  why  all  this  trifling  ?  Why  not  say  so  at 
once  ?  When  was  he  taken,  and  where  ? '  demanded  Bolton, 
sternly ;  '  and  what  does  he  want  with  me  ? ' 

In  reply  to  these  interrogatories,  Mr.  Tike  quietly  drew 
the  door-key  from  his  pocket,  and  placing  it  against  his  nose, 
ogled  Bolton  through  the  handle. 

'  He  was  captured  about  ten  minutes  ago,  in  this  'ere 
room,  by  this  'ere  key  ;  and  he  wants  you  to  go  to  prison 
as  his  substitute.' 

Bolton  threw  a  hasty  look  about  the  room.  The  windows 
were  all  closed  and  high  from  the  ground.  He  glanced  at 
his  own  spare  frame,  and  measured  its  strength  with  that  of 
the  ponderous  and  muscular  man  before  him.  He  looked 
about  for  a  weapon  of  defence.  On  the  top  of  a  desk  op 
posite  him  lay  an  old  hatchet,  which  had  once  aided  in  a 
murder,  whose  perpetrator  he  had  screened  from  justice.  As 
his  eye  rested  on  it,  his  purpose  was  fixed.  So  was  that  of 
Mr.  Tike,  who  had  watched  his  eye,  and  also  saw  the  weapon. 

Without  changing  his  position  or  altering  a  muscle,  Bol 
ton  turned  to  the  officer  and  said  : 

'  This  is  a  strange  enigma.  Speak  out,  will  you,  and  tell 
me  plainly  what  you  want  ? ' 


332  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1  Well,  then,  plainly,  I  want  you  ! '  responded  Mr.  Tike, 
'to  show  cause  why  you  should  not  be  hanged  for  murder* 

'  Murder  !'  ejaculated  Bolton. 

'Ay,  murder !  Mr.  Bolton.  You  was  seen  to  attack  a 
weak  man,  sick,  alone,  and  about  to  die  ;  you  was  seen 
struggling  with  him,  to  grasp  his  throat,  to  throw  him  down, 
and  to  smother  him ;  and  then  to  leave  him,  as  if  he  had 
died  a  nat'ral  death.  This  you  was  seen  to  do,  Mr.  Bolton, 
this  very  night ;  and  that  man  was  one  who  was  your 
friend—  Wilkins ! ' 

' '  Tis  false !  —  false  as  hell ! '  shouted  Bolton,  his  eyes 
starting,  and  his  hair  bristling  with  horror  at  the  description 
of  the  policeman.  '  I  did  not !  you  cannot  prove  it !  I  '11 
not  go  with  you,  to  be  murdered  on  a  charge  like  that !  By 
the  living  God  !  I'll  not !  See  here  ! '  shouted  he,  spring 
ing  to  the  hatchet,  and  brandishing  it  like  a  maniac  over  his 
head  ;  '  see  here  !  With  this  I  '11  defend  myself  to  the  last  — 
to  the  last  gasp  !  Ha !  ha !  have  I  thwarted  you,  old  blood 
hound  ?  Have  I  thwarted  you  ?  One  step  toward  me  — 
ay,  one  inch,  and  I  bury  this  in  your  skull !  Keep  off !  both 
of  you  —  both  of  you  !  Ay,  even  though  he  help  you,  I  '11 
not  give  up  ! ' 

The  policeman  drew  a  pistol  from  his  pocket,  and  without 
moving  from  his  seat,  cocked  it,  and  pointed  it  at  the  at 
torney. 

*  Look  ye,  Mr.  Bolton,'  said  he,  '  an  axe  is  a  dangerous 
we'pon  ;  but  a  pistol  is  dangerouser.  I've  no  objection  to 
your  being  frightened.  It 's  all  in  course,  and  you  may  even 
shake  that  cleaver  at  me  ;  but  you  mustn't  come  nearer  with 
it,  and  you  must  n't  resist  the  law ;  for  I  came  here  to  take 
you,  and,  living  or  dead,  I  '11  do  it.  So  put  up  your  axe,  or 
I  'II  quiet  you  with  a  bullet.' 

For  a  moment  the  attorney  glared  about  him  like  a  baf- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  333 

fled  tiger,  and  measured  the  distance  between  himself  and 
the  muzzle  of  the  pistol.  Had  there  been  the  slightest 
tremor  in  the  hand  that  grasped  it,  or  the  shadow  of  irreso 
lution  in  the  face  of  Mr.  Tike,  he  would  have  hazarded  the 
struggle ;  but  there  was  none :  he  saw  that  resistance  was 
useless  ;  and  with  a  muttered  curse  he  dashed  the  hatchet 
to  the  floor,  and  taking  his  coat  from  the  peg,  put  it  on 
without  a  word,  and  turning  to  the  officer,  said  that  he  was 
ready  to  accompany  him. 

'  You  'd  better  take  your  hat  and  put  on  your  gloves,  for 
it 's  a  cold  night,'  said  Mr.  Tike,  returning  the  pistol  to  his 
pocket,  and  drawing  forth  the  key.  *  JSTow  step  forward  like 
a  reasonable  man,'  said  he,  as  he  unlocked  the  door.  '  There, 
take  my  arm,  my  left  arm,  if  you  please  ;  I  want  my  right 
for  service.  There,'  said  he,  grasping  the  sleeve  of  the  arm 
that  was  placed  within  his  own,  '  now  you  act  reasonable, 
and  we  shall  get  on  quite  comfortable.'  As  he  spoke,  he 
strode  along  the  dark  entry  with  the  rapid  and  sure  step  of 
one  who  was  familiar  with  it ;  and  turning  up  the  street,  led 
his  prisoner  off  to  those  dens  of  darkness  and  misery,  ycleped 
THE  TOMBS. 


334  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

WHEN  the  physician  had  been  led  by  Bolton  from  the 
room  in  which  Wilkins  lay  ill,  as  mentioned  in  a  previous 
chapter,  he  suffered  himself  to  be  conducted  down  the  stairs 
and  into  the  street  without  remark  ;  Bolton  keeping  at  his 
side,  and  endeavoring  to  employ  his  thoughts  on  other  sub 
jects  than  that  of  his  patient,  until  a  long  interval  of  gloomy 
streets  and  many  a  high  dingy  house  lay  between  them  and 
the  scene  they  had  left.  Then,  on  the  pretence  that  he  had 
urgent  business  to  attend  to,  he  left  him,  and  making  a  short 
circuit,  returned  to  Wilkins,  as  has  already  been  narrated. 

No  sooner,  however,  was  he  gone,  than  the  doctor  stopped 
too,  and  watched  him  until  his  figure  was  hid  in  the  gloom 
of  the  streets,  and  then  he  raised  his  finger  and  shook  it  after 
him.  Could  any  one  have  observed  his  face,  he  would  have 
seen  suspicion,  dislike,  and  anger  all  stamped  upon  it.  He 
did  not  stir  from  the  spot,  but,  folding  his  arms,  stood  mus 
ing,  with  the  red  light  of  a  lamp  flashing  over  his  features, 
and  giving  them  a  harsh,  uncouth  expression.  At  last  he 
said,  in  a  low,  stern  tone : 

*  I  have  seen  hundreds  die ;  ay,  go  howling  to  their  graves ; 
and  I  have  stood  by  while  mother,  children,  and  friends 
were  begging  me  to  give  life  to  a  worn-out  carcass,  as  if  life 
and  death  were  in  my  gift ;  and  when  the  breath  was  gone, 
I  have  had  them  to  turn  upon  me  and  revile  me  because  I 
could  not  step  between  the  Almighty  and  his  decrees  :  and 
I  have  borne  it  all  without  flinching,  for  I  knew  that  it  was 
human  nature.  Yet  never  have  I  seen  any  thing  so  horrible 


THE    ATTORNEY.  335 

as  the  look  of  that  sick  man  this  night.  He  must  die  —  he 
must;  but/  continued  he,  in  the  same  tone,  'he  must  not  be 
murdered  /  and  if  ever  human  being  had  the  look  of  an 
assassin,  it  was  the  man  whom  I  found  tlaere  ;  and  if  ever  an 
eye  looked  murder,  his  did,  as  that  wretched  criminal  cursed 
and  accused  him.  As  sure  as  I  'm  a  living  man,  there  was 
murder  in  that  look.  I  '11  see  to  it ! '  And  turning  about, 
he  once  more  sought  the  sick  man's  room. 

His  heart  beat  quickly,  and  something  like  a  shudder 
passed  over  him,  as  he  encountered  a  man  darting  with 
headlong  speed  from  the  building  ;  for  dark  as  it  was,  he  yet 
detected  a  resemblance  to  Bolton  in  his  figure. 

On  entering  the  room,  a  glance  showed  him  that  Wilkins 
was  lying  there,  apparently  dead ;  and  although  there  was 
nothing  to  justify  a  suspicion  that  he  had  met  with  foul  play, 
yet  that  suspicion  was  in  his  mind  ;  and  at  the  same  instant 
came  the  hope  that  he  might  have  interrupted  the  murderer 
before  his  work  was  accomplished.  The  idea,  and  to  act 
upon  it,  were  simultaneous.  He  went  straight  to  the  bed, 
opened  Wilkins's  shirt,  and  placed  his  hand  upon  his  heart. 
He  had  held  it  there  for  some  moments,  when  he  felt  it  beat. 
It  stopped,  fluttered  as  if  about  to  cease  its  labor  for  ever, 
then  it  beat  again.  In  a  moment  his  lancet  was  out,  a  vein 
was  opened,  a  few  simple  applications,  such  as  were  ready 
at  hand,  were  made,  and  Wilkins  slowly  opened  his  eyes  and 
looked  about  him. 

'  You  may  thank  GOD,  my  poor  fellow,  that  HE  put  such 
suspicions  in  my  head  as  never  came  into  it  before,  or  your 
last  breath  would  have  been  drawn  before  this  ! '  said  the 
doctor,  kneeling  beside  Wilkins,  and  supporting  his  head  on 
his  breast,  while  he  bathed  his  temples  with  some  liquid 
which  he  took  from  a  cup  at  his  side.  '  If  ever  you  uttered 
thanks  to  God,  do  it  now  ! ' 


336  THE    ATTORNEY. 

Wilkins  stared  about  him  ;  but  at  first  his  mind  wandered. 
He  had  no  recollection  of  what  had  happened  ;  and  the  few 
words  which  he  uttered  were  vague  and  indistinct.  He 
knew  that  high  words  had  passed  between  himself  and  the 
lawyer,  and  that  they  had  had  a  scuffle. 

'  Can  you  remember  nothing  else  ? '  said  the  Doctor,  ear 
nestly. 

Wilkins  passed  his  hand  feebly  across  his  brow,  and  shook 
his  head.  *  He  could  not.' 

While  this  was  going  on,  the  door  of  the  room  opened, 
and  a  sharp  face  was  thrust  in,  while  a  tremulous  voice  in 
quired  : 

*  How  is  he  ?     Did  he  kill  him  ? ' 

The  doctor  looked  up  at  the  face,  and  then  told  it  to  come 
in  and  tell  what  it  meant. 

The  man  to  whom  the  face  belonged  hesitated.  Before 
venturing  in,  he  looked  behind  him  to  see  that  there  was  no 
impediment  to  a  rapid  retreat  in  case  of  necessity  ;  and  then, 
accepting  the  doctor's  invitation,  advanced  toward  him,  dis 
playing  at  the  same  time  the  rest  of  a  person  very  far  gone 
in  decay  and  shabbiness. 

'  Well,  what  do  you  want  to  know  ? '  demanded  the  doctor, 
who  had  laid  Wilkins  in  the  bed,  and  now  stood  up.  *  You 
ask  if  that  man,'  said  he,  pointing  to  Wilkins,  '  is  killed. 
Who  wanted  to  kill  him  ?  Did  you  ? ' 

The  thin  man  replied  in  not  a  very  firm  voice :  '  No ;  but 
I  saw  a  man  who  was  trying  to.' 

*  You  did,  eh  ? '  said  the  doctor. 
The  stranger  nodded. 

'  Then  why  did  n't  you  come  over  and  help  him,  instead 
of  leaving  him  to  struggle  single-handed  with  a  man  of 
ten  times  his  present  strength  ? ' 

The  thin  man  made  no  reply  to  this  question ;  but  con- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  337 

tented  himself  with  brushing  a  remarkably  old  hat  with  the 
sleeve  of  a  coat  not  a  little  the  worse  for  wear,  although  there 
was  no  probability  that  either  article  of  apparel  would  bo 
benefited  by  the  process. 

'  Do  you  know  who  made  this  attempt  ? '  said  the  doctor 
after  a  long  pause,  during  the  whole  of  which  he  seemed 
struggling  to  repress  a  strong  inclination  to  fall  on  the  new 
comer  and  flog  him  on  the  spot. 

'  Not  his  name,'  replied  the  stranger,  evidently  relieved  at 
the  pacific  termination  of  the  doctor's  reverie ;  at  the  same 
time  adding  variety  to  his  proceeding  by  rolling  his  hat  into 
a  very  small  compass,  for  no  other  apparent  purpose  than 
that  of  unrolling  it,  which  he  did  instantly. 

'  Well,  /  do,'  said  the  doctor.  '  That  will  answer  as  well. 
But  first  of  all,  tell  me  what  you  saw.' 

The  stranger  paused,  and  having  cleared  his  throat,  and 
gone  through  the  form  of  feeling  in  his  pocket  for  a  hand 
kerchief  which  had  never  been  there,  said  that  he  was  at  the 
window  of  his  house  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  when 
his  attention  was  attracted  to  what  was  going  on  in  Wilkins's 
room,  which  he  could  distinctly  see,  as  there  was  a  light  in 
it,  while  his  own  room  had  none.  The  man  described  the 
scene  which  had  taken  place  between  Wilkins  and  the  attor 
ney  ;  and  frankly  confessed  he  had  been  so  much  excited  and 
frightened  at  what  he  had  witnessed  that  he  lost  all  presence 
of  mind ;  and  it  was  not  until  the  attorney  took  to  flight 
that  he  thought  of  giving  the  alarm. 

'  You  will  swear  to  all  this  at  the  police-office,  will  you  ? ' 

*  Yes ;  to-night,  if  you  choose.' 

'Very  well,   you   shall,'    replied   the  doctor  laconically. 
'  Now  I  want  some  one  to  stay  with  this  man,  and  watch 
him.     Who  can  I  get  ?     He  must  not  be  left  alone,  for  that 
fellow  may  return.' 
15 


338  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Get  me  some  one,  for  GOD'S  sake ! '  exclaimed  Wilkins 
feebly,  and  clasping  his  hands  together.  '  Oh !  do  n't  leave 
me  again  in  his  power  ! ' 

4  Be  quiet ! '  said  the  doctor ;  *  you  shall  be  taken  care  of, 
even  though  I  should  remain  here  to  do  it  myself.  Who 
will  stay  here  ? '  inquired  he,  again  addressing  the  stranger. 

The  thin  man  stole  on  tip-toe  to  the  window,  thrust  his 
head  out,  and  bellowed  in  a  voice  which  had  wonderfully 
increased  in  power  within  the  last  few  moments :  '  Torn 
Stubbs !  Tom  Stubbs !  I  say.  He  '11  answer  by  and  by,' 
said  he,  jerking  in  his  head,  and  awaiting  a  response  with 
great  patience  and  composure.  But  he  was  mistaken  in  his 
conjecture ;  and  after  a  pause  he  again  thrust  out  his  head  : 

*  Torn  Stubbs  !  Tom  Stubbs !  you  infernal  low-lived  vaga 
bond  !  where  are  you  ? ' 

'  Here  ! '  responded  a  faint  voice,  which  sounded  as  if  it 
came  from  under  a  distant  barrel. 

*  Well,  why  did  n't  you  say  so  at  first  ?     Bring  yourself 
over  here,  will  you  ?  —  and  be  quick ! ' 

That  Tom  Stubbs  made  a  response  of  some  kind  was  evi 
dent  from  the  fact  that  certain  uncouth  sounds  were  heard 
from  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  which  must  have  been 
something  of  that  nature,  unless  Mr.  Stubbs  was  addicted  to 
soliloquy ;  but  whatever  it  was,  it  did  not  impede  his  opera 
tions  ;  for  in  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Stubbs  brought  himself  over 
in  the  shape  of  a  little  oily  fellow  with  red  cheeks  and  fat 
legs,  whom  he  introduced  by  simply  saying : 

'  Well,  old  fellow !  here  I  am.     What  do  you  want  'I ' 
'  Do  you  see  that  man  ? '  said  the  thin  one,  pointing  to 
Wilkins. 

*  Well,  suppose  I  do  !  —  what  then  ?    inquired  Mr.  Stubbs, 
anxious  to  investigate  results  before  committing  himself; 

*  and  suppose  I  do  n't !  —  what  then,  ? ' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  3 9 5 

•  Some  one  has  been  mighty  near  giving  him  a  walking- 
ticket  to  see  what  sort  of  lodgings  the  sexton  keeps.' 

'Whew!'  whistled  Mr.  Stubbs;  '  licensed  or  unlicensed?  — 
physic  or  murder  ?  —  which  \ 

•  M order !  murder  the  most  foul,7  said  the  other,  extending 
his  arm  energetically  toward  the  ceiling,  with  an  undulating 
motion,  which  would  have  been  deeply  impressive,  had  not 
the  gentleman  been  compelled  to  bring  his  performance  to  a 
rather  precipitate  conclusion,  owing  to  a  sudden  rupture  in  a 
portion  of  his  apparel. 

Mr.  Stubbs  looked  about  the  room ;  an  examination  which 
seemed  very  cursory,  but  which  had  embraced  every  thing 
in  it  before  he  answered  : 

•  We*.:,  cuss  me  if  I  see  any  thing  that  was  worth  the 
risk.     It  must  *aT  been  a  grudge,' 

1  It  was,'  interrupted  the  doctor,  impatiently ;  '  it  was.  An 
infernal  scoundrel,  taking  advantage  of  his  being  fll  and 
unable  to  help  himself  attempted  to  murder  him  to  settle  an 
old  grievance.  And  I  want  you  to  watch  here,  lest  he  should 
come  back  and  complete  what  he  left  unfinished.  1 11  pay 
you  for  your  trouble.' 

'Well,  that's  honorable,'  said  Mr.  Stubbs,  'and  I  won't 
even  insinivate  the  propriety  of  handing  over  the  dust  afore- 
hand.  Oh  no !  I  would  n?t  think  of  it ! ' 

The  doctor  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  drew  oat  a 
silver  dollar,  which  he  flung  to  him. 

4  Well,'  said  Mr.  Stubbs, « I  had  no  idea  of  such  quick  re 
turns  for  my  investments.  But  punctuality  is  the  soul  of 
business ;  and  I  won't  make  you  feel  unhappy  by  refusing. 
Oh  no !  It 's  not  in  my  natur7,  it  is  n't.  My  heart  is  all 
milk,  Sir — all  mother  ?s  milk.  I  ?11  watch  him  like  a  babe ; 
and  if  that  there  chap  comes  agin,  blast  my  eyes !  bat  1 11 
wring  his  neck — so !  If  I  do  n't,  damme ! '  And  by  way 


340  THE    ATTORNEY. 

of  illustrating  his  words  more  fully,  Mr.  Stubbs  looked  fero 
ciously  at  the  wall,  and  seizing  himself  by  the  cravat,  twisted 
it  round  till  he  was  black  in  the  face ;  all  the  time  grating 
his  teeth  with  a  kind  of  savage  satisfaction  at  the  idea  of 
performing  that  pleasant  little  process,  even  though  the  sub 
ject  of  it  was  his  own  respectable  self. 

'  There,  Sir,'  said  he,  relaxing  his  hold,  when  he  had 
brought  himself  to  the  very  verge  of  strangulation  ;  '  that  is 
what  I  '11  do  to  him  !  I  might  have  carried  the  experiment 
farther ;  but  it  was  n't  safe.  Another  twist  might  have  been 
a  little  too  much,  Sir.  One  very  respectable  gentleman  of 
my  acquaintance  found  it  so.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  divert 
ing  hisself  in  that  way ;  twisting  his  cravat  till  his  face  was 
as  black  as  ink.  But  one  day,  Sir,  he  carried  the  joke  so  far 
that  he  could  n't  bring  it  back  again,  and  cuss  me  if  he  did  n't 
choke  hisself  in  real  earnest ;  affording  a  sad  example  of  the 
mutability  of  earthly  events,  and  of  the  danger  of  trifling 
with  the  human  wind-pipe  by  means  of  red  silk  pocket-hand- 
kerchers.' 

Having  thus  completed  his  illustration,  and  delivered  him 
self  of  his  commentary  on  it,  Mr.  Stubbs  took  a  seat  on  a 
small  stool,  and  commenced  adjusting  his  neckcloth,  which 
the  fervor  of  his  previous  demonstration  had  very  much  dis 
composed. 

*  You  '11  look  after  him,  will  you  ? '  said  the  doctor,  eyeing 
him  as  if  in  doubt  whether  to  leave  Wilkins  in  his  charge 
or  not. 

'  To  be  sure  I  will,'  said  Mr.  Stubbs,  still  continuing  his 
toilette. 

*  He  must  be  kept  quiet :  no  talking.' 

'  He  sha'  n't  open  his  mouth,'  said  the  other,  resolutely. 
'He  must  n't  get  up,'  continued  the  doctor. 
'  If  he  does,  I  '11  knock  him  down,'  replied  Mr.  Stublx    in 
a  determined  tone. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  341 

*  You  must  n't  hurt  him.' 

1  Oh  no !  in  coorse  not.  I  '11  knock  him  down  gently, 
very  gently.' 

The  doctor  paused. 

'Any  physic  to  be  took  ? '  asked  Mr.  Stubbs.  '  Don't  be 
afeard.  If  it 's  to  be  took,  say  so.  Cuss  me  if  he  sha'  n't 
swaller  it !  You  say  the  word,  that 's  all.' 

'  No,  not  to-night.' 

( Oh !  very  well.  You  can  go  now  as  soon  as  you  please. 
I  know  what 's  to  be  did,  and  did  it  shall  be.' 

The  doctor  gave  one  or  two  directions  to  Wilkins,  and 
urging  him  to  keep  quiet,  at  last  went  out,  accompanied  by 
the  thin  stranger. 

Mr.  .Stubbs  followed  the  doctor's  advice  to  the  letter  ;  for 
no  sooner  was  the  latter  gone  than  he  seated  himself  on  the 
floor,  and  placing  his  back  against  the  door  so  that  it  was 
impossible  to  open  it  without  awakening  him,  in  less  than  one 
minute  was  completing  a  sound  nap  which  had  been  inter 
rupted  when  he  was  summoned  to  enter  upon  his  present 
duty. 

The  result  of  the  complaint  of  the  two  personages  who 
had  just  retired  has  already  been  shown  in  the  arrest  of  the 
attorney,  whom  we  left  accompanying  Mr.  Tike  to  the  Tombs, 
and  to  whom  we  must  now  return. 

Bolton  had  been  locked  up  for  the  night ;  but  he  had  pre 
viously  learned,  to  his  great  relief,  that  he  had  not  succeeded 
in  his  attempt  upon  the  life  of  Wilkins.  The  idea  of  the 
gallows  had  haunted  him  incessantly ;  and  now  he  looked 
upon  imprisonment  as  a  trifle  scarcely  to  be  regarded.  But 
still  it  was  a  wretched  night  for  him,  and  he  faced  his  room 
until  the  dim  light  breaking  through  the  windows  told  him 
that  it  was  day. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  door  of  his  chamber  was  un- 


342  THE    ATTORNEY. 

bolted,  £nd  Mr.  Tike  walked  in.  '  Come,  Sir,'  said  lie,  *  the 
justice  is  here,  and  you  '11  be  disposed  of  in  short  order. 
You  '11  be  'zamined,  and  I  suppose  afore  breakfast  you  '11  be 
bailed.  This  way,  this  way,'  said  he,  leading  the  way  along 
an  entry,  and  descending  a  flight  of  stairs.  'A  very  com 
fortable  place  this  is,  when  once  you  're  accustomed  to  it.  A 
little  morsel  dampish ;  but  that  you  know  is  quite  nat'ral, 
considering  that  it 's  built  over  a  quagmire.' 

Bolton  made  no  reply,  but  followed  him  into  the  police- 
office.  It  was  a  large  room,  half  railed  off,  and  with  a  bar 
running  across  it  to  indicate  who  were  the  justices  and  who 
the  criminals  ;  the  main  distinction  between  the  two  being 
that  the  former  sat  behind  the  bar,  and  the  latter  stood  be 
fore  it. 

The  first  of  these  positions  was  occupied  by  a  tall,  stout 
man,  with  iron-gray  hair,  and  a  pair  of  spectacles  surmount 
ing  a  nose  which,  from  the  excessive  modesty  of  its  owner, 
had  acquired  a  perpetual  blush.  He  was  administering  jus 
tice  in  small  doses  to  vagabonds,  and  in  large  ones  to  thieves; 
and  having  got  through  with  the  accumulation  of  the  night, 
he  called  '  Bolton  ! ' 

The  attorney  walked  up  to  the  bar. 

'An  unpleasant  business  this,  Sir,  quite  unpleasant ; '  said 
the  justice,  laying  aside  the  magisterial  tone  which  he  had 
used  to  the  '  accumulation '  just  mentioned,  and  which,  being 
for  the  most  part  composed  of  the  wretched  and  starving, 
was  entitled  to  nothing  better ;  and  assuming  toward  Bolton 
that  air  of  deference  which  is  always  due  to  great  rogues  in 
contradistinction  to  small  ones. 

Bolton  made  no  reply  to  this  remark,  but  said,  in  a  stern 
tone, 

*  I  should  like  to  know  with  what  I  am  charged.' 

The  justice  saw  that  the  attorney  was  in  no  humor  to 


THE    ATTORNEY.  343 

appreciate  civility,  and  as  lie  had,  more  than  once,  come  in 
disagreeable  collision  with  him  when  Bolton  was  defending 
others,  and  had,  in  the  course  of  such  collision,  imbibed  a 
profound  dread  of  the  lawyer,  and  now  felt  fully  assured  that, 
if  there  was  a  loop-hole  for  escape  in  the  law,  he  would  find 
it,  he  had  no  wish  to  irritate  him  ;  so  he  quietly  slunk  into 
himself,  after  having  called  '  Mr.  Harvey.' 

'  Sir ! '  exclaimed  an  elderly  man  in  a  foxy  wig,  who  wa& 
dozing  beside  the  justice,  with  his  head  resting  on  a  large 
book  with  a  red  cover.  The  justice  nodded  toward  Bolton, 
and  said  :  *  Complaint  against  him  ? ' 

'  Oh  ! '  said  Mr.  Harvey,  sitting  up  and  rubbing  both  eyes 
with  his  knuckles.  '  We  '11  oblige  him  —  we  will.  What 's 
his  name  ? ' 

'  Bolton,'  replied  the  attorney,  sternly. 

'  Oh !  ah ! '  said  the  man,  fumbling  among  a  number  of 
papers  which  were  lying  in  front  of  him.  '  Stykes  — that 's 
not  it;  Boohey  —  nor  that;  Smith  —  nor  that;  Horpins, 
White,  Arnold,  Higgins,  Traney,  Jones,  Bolton.  Ah !  that 's 
it !  Eeuben  Bolton ;  the  last  one  —  sure  to  be  the  last  one ; 
always  the  way  when  a  man's  in  a  hurry.  I  would  swear  to 
it.  Shall  I  read  it  ? ' 

'  Yes ! '  said  Bolton. 

And  Mr.  Harvey,  after  having  cleared  his  throat  several 
times,  and  taking  a  very  moderate  sip  of  water,  which  he 
distributed  over  his  lips,  ingeniously  using  his  tongue  as  a 
trowel,  proceeded  in  a  deliberate  tone,  and  with  an  utter  dis 
regard  of  stops  or  punctuation,  to  read  the  affidavits  and 
examination  of  the  doctor  and  the  thin  gentleman,  setting 
forth  the  facts  of  the  attempt  against  the  life  of  Wilkins. 

'Is  the  complainant  and  his  witness  here?'  demanded 
Bolton,  calmly. 


344  THE    ATTORNEY. 

*  They  are  in  there,'  said  the  justice,  pointing  to  a  small 
room  adjoining  the  office. 

'  Will  you  oblige  me  by  examining  them  at  once  ?  The 
whole  thing  is  a  trick  or  a  mistake.' 

'  Perhaps  you  'd  better  come  in  there.  It 's  more  private, 
and  won't  be  so  unpleasant  for  you.' 

Bolton  made  no  reply,  but  followed  him  into  the  room 
and  took  a  seat  at  the  table.  A  single  glance  told  him  that 
the  doctor  was  there,  and  had  his  eye  on  him ;  and  he  did 
not  venture  a  second  one  ;  but  as  the  justice  called  the 
doctor,  he  said,  without  raising  his  eyes :  '  Let  the  other 
witness  leave  the  room.' 

An  officer  approached  the  thin  man,  and  whispering  a  few 
words  in  his  ear,  escorted  him  beyond  the  door,  after  which 
he  returned  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  what  was  going  on. 

The  magistrate  seated  himself  at  the  table,  drew  an  ink 
stand  toward  him,  and  clearing  his  throat  and  shaking  his 
head  for  the  purpose  of  removing  all  obstructions,  both  phy 
sical  and  intellectual,  commenced  his  examination.  When 
this  was  ended,  the  thin  witness  was  called  in,  and  gave  his 
testimony. 

Bolton  sat  during  the  greater  part  of  the  time  with  his 
head  leaning  on  his  hand,  his  brow  knit,  occasionally  sug 
gesting  a  question  as  the  examination  proceeded.  When 
the  depositions  had  been  signed,  the  justice  turned  to 
Bolton : 

'  You  are  aware  that  it  is  now  my  duty  to  examine  you, 
and  that  you  are  at  liberty  to  answer  or  not,  as  you  please.' 

*  I  am  aware  of  that,'  replied  the  lawyer,  '  and  shall  avail 
myself  of  the  privilege  which  the  law  gives  me  of  being 
silent.  So  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  send  off  the  witnesses,' 
said  he,  seeing  that  an  officer  was  preparing  to  lead  them 
out. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  345 

'Very  well,'  replied  the  justice,  folding  up  the  papers  and 
taking  off  his  spectacles. 

'  It 's  too  early  to  look  for  bail  now,  so  I  must  trouble  you 
for  an  hour  or  two  longer,'  said  Bolton  :  '  beside,  the  bail  in 
this  case  is  a  matter  which  the  Circuit  judge  must  settle,  1 
suppose.' 

The  magistrate  said  that  '  it  was  ; '  and  Bolton,  with  an 
abruptness  which  foiled  all  attempts  of  that  functionary 
to  open  a  conversation,  got  up  and  followed  an  officer  to  his 
*  room,'  establishing  himself  in  his  good  opinion  by  giving 
him  a  dollar,  and  ordering  a  good  breakfast  and  a  barber. 


15* 


346  THE    ATTORNEY. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

EITHER  the  blood-letting  which  Wilkins  had  undergone 
proved  beneficial,  or  his  disease  took  a  favorable  turn ;  for 
on  the  following  day,  contrary  to  the  predictions  of  the  phy 
sician,  he  awoke  much  better.  His  first  impulse  was  to  get 
up  ;  but  this  Mr.  Stubbs,  who  combined  the  duties  of  nurse 
and  watchman,  prevented  by  unceremoniously  thrusting  him 
back  in  the  bed,  and  telling  him  to  keep  quiet,  according  to 
orders.  Wilkins  at  any  other  time  might  have  felt  disposed 
to  resist,  but  he  was  too  feeble  to  venture  upon  any  thing  of 
the  kind  then  ;  while  Mr.  Stubbs,  to  show  that  he  acted  with 
full  impartiality,  stretched  himself  in  a  similar  position  on 
the  floor,  and  maintained  it  until  relieved  from  duty  by  the 
appearance  of  the  doctor. 

Now  that  the  strength  of  his  disease  was  broken,  Wilkins 
began  to  improve  rapidly.  On  the  following  day  he  was 
able  to  sit  up,  and  in  a  short  time  to  go  into  the  street  and 
breathe  an  atmosphere  pure,  when  compared  with  that  which 
stagnated  in  his  own  room. 

One  fine  morning,  as  his  strength  began  to  increase,  Wil 
kins  resolved  to  go  out.  He  had  hitherto  been  very  slovenly 
in  his  dress,  for  he  was  wretchedly  poor ;  and  but  that  Higgs 
quietly  supplied  him  with  food,  he  might  have  starved. 
Drawing  his  tattered  clothes  about  him,  for  he  felt  cold,  he 
set  out,  carefully  avoiding  the  thoroughfares  in  which  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  walking,  and  slinking  through  by-streets  and 
narrow  lanes,  toward  his  old  home.  Since  his  illness,  the 
thought  of  that  old  place  had  constantly  haunted  him ;  and 


THE    ATTORNEY.  347 

a  tide  of  old  recollections  and  feelings  and  affections,  which 
seemed  long  since  dead,  had  sprung  into  life,  and  was  flood 
ing  his  heart,  overflowing  it  until  pride,  resentment,  and 
shame  were  all  swept  away.  Back  he  would  go  to  the  old 
spot,  and  look  at  it  once  more ;  for  it  had  been  the  home  of 
his  wife,  and  his  heart  was  full  of  love  for  her  now  ;  and  a 
faint  and  scarcely  defined  hope  shot  across  him,  that  she 
might  have  returned  to  it ;  and  desolate  as  it  was,  might  he 
not  find  her  sitting  there,  watching  for  him  ?  He  inwardly 
prayed  that  it  might  be  so,  and  that  her  glad  face  might  be 
the  first  thing  to  greet  him  as  he  knocked.  His  heart  beat 
violently  as  he  came  in  front  of  it,  for  the  same  screens  which 
hung  at  the  windows  when  he  lived  there  were  there  still, 
and  he  observed  a  fire  burning  within,  and  that  the  room 
wTas  occupied.  He  went  to  the  door  and  opened  it  noise 
lessly.  Every  thing  there  was  strange.  A  coarse-looking 
woman  was  sitting  near  the  fire,  and  a  child  was  playing  on 
the  floor.  He  closed  the  door  in  the  same  cautious  manner 
in  which  he  had  opened  it ;  and  leaning  his  head  against  the 
wall,  the  hot  tears  streamed  down  his  cheeks,  and  heavy  sobs 
burst  from  him,  such  as  had  never  escaped  him  in  all  his 
troubles.  He  left  the  house  feeling  reckless,  and  wandered 
back  to  his  abode  ;  and  sat  down  with  his  head  bent  on  his 
knees  and  his  hair  hanging  wildly  over  his  face.  The  door 
of  his  room  opened  whilst  he  was  in  this  state  ;  but  he  did 
not  move  until  a  hand  was  placed  on  his  shoulder,  and  the 
voice  of  Higgs  said  : 

1  George !  I  Ve  news  for  you.' 

Wilkins  looked  up,  and  as  he  did  so  he  observed  that 
Higgs  was  much  excited,  and  that  his  cheek  was  pale.  He 
demanded  hastily,  '  Well,  Bill,  out  with  it !  is  it  good  or  bad  ? ' 

' You'll  think  it  good,  /think  it  d d  bad  ! '  said 

Higgs,  laconically. 


348  THE    ATTORNEY. 

"  Good  news  is  scarce  ;  let 's  have  it,'  said  Wilkins,  im 
patiently. 

1  Well,  you  've  one  trouble  less  in  your  way ;  your  wife 
i 

'  What  of  her  ? '  demanded  Wilkins,  quickly  ;  '  what  of 
her,  I  say  ? ' 

'  She 's  gone  ! ' 

'  Gone  !  where  ? ' 

'Dead — dead  and  buried  !' 

Wilkins  clasped  his  hands  tight  over  his  heart,  and  rose 
to  his  feet :  a  sharp  hysterical  sob  escaped  him,  and  he 
reeled  as  if  he  would  have  fallen ;  but  he  recovered  himself 
in  a  moment,  and  approaching  Higgs,  asked,  in  a  voice  so 
preternaturally  calm  that  it  awed  his  comrade, 

1  Is  that  true,  Bill  —  on  your  soul  ? ' 

« It  is.' 

« Who  told  you  ? ' 

*  I  heard  it  from  Phillips,  who  is  searching  the  whole  city 
for  you.  You  '11  find  him  at  his  rooms.  But  you  'd  better 
not  see  him  now,  for  on  my  life  I  believe  he  '11  murder  you.' 

Wilkins  turned  from  him  without  reply,  and  rushed  from 
the  house.  Turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  left,  but  hurry 
ing  on  with  an  impetuosity  which  attracted  the  attention  of 
hundreds  whom  he  passed,  he  made  for  Phillips's  house  by  a 
sort  of  instinct,  for  there  was  little  reason  left  to  guide  him. 
He  knocked  at  the  door,  and  no  sooner  was  it  opened,  than 
he  darted  up  stairs,  and  into  Phillips's  room. 

Phillips  was  sitting  at  a  table  opposite  the  door,  with  a 
book  in  front  of  him,  but  he  was  not  reading ;  for  his  eyes 
were  directed  toward  the  floor,  and  altogether  he  had  the 
air  of  one  buried  in  deep  and  unpleasant  thought.  He  did 
not  look  up  as  Wilkins  entered. 

Wilkins  went  to  a  chair  which  stood  close  to  him  and 


THE    ATTORNEY.  340 

seated  himself,  and  touching  Phillips,  said,  in  a  quick,  husky 
tone : 

*  Jack,  where  's  Lucy  ? ' 

'  So  you  Ve  come  at  last ! '  said  Phillips,  slowly  rising  to 
his  full  height,  and  looking  at  him  as  if  he  would  wither 
him  with  his  glance  ;  '  and  to  inquire  after  her  whose  happi 
ness  you  blasted,  whose  life  you  cursed,  whose  young  heart 
you  trampled  on  ;  whose  name  you  branded,  and  whom  you 
drove  from  your  door  as  if  she  were  the  outcast  that  your 
lying  lips  dared  to  call  her  !  And  now  that  she  is  dead  and 
in  her  grave,  you  ask  where  she  is !  George ! '  said  he, 
with  a  strong  effort  mastering  the  fierce  emotion  that  shook 
him  from  head  to  foot,  '  but  for  the  memory  of  old  times, 
and  for  my  promise  to  her,  I  could  feel  it  in  me  to  dash  your 
brains  out  as  you  stand  !  I  can  scarcely  keep  my  fingers 
off  you ! ' 

Still  Wilkins  did  not  move  ;  and  the  fierce  excitement  of 
Phillips  seemed  to  have  no  effect  upon  him  ;  for  he  merely 
repeated  his  question  :  '  Jack,  where 's  Lucy  ? ' 

'  Where  your  infernal  villany  sent  her  before  her  time  ! ' 
exclaimed  Phillips,  hesitating  to  strike  a  man  who  made  no 
resistance,  and  yet  burning  to  avenge  the  wrongs  which  he 
had  inflicted  upon  his  wife  ;  '  in  her  grave  ! ' 

Wilkins  started  up,  pressed  his  hand  upon  his  heart  as  if 
a  sudden  pain  had  shot  through  it,  and  then  sat  down. 
Again  that  same  sharp  hysteric  sob  escaped  him,  but  no 
other  sound. 

'  If  you  would  see  her,'  continued  Phillips  in  the  same 
stern  tone,  *  go  to  the  church-yard.' 

Wilkins  looked  at  him  like  one  who  heard  the  words,  but 
did  not  take  in  their  meaning. 

'  Do  you  hear  me  ?'  demanded  Phillips. 

Wilkins  stood  up,  smiled  vacantly,  and  said,  '  Yes,  yes ; 


350  THE    ATTORNEY. 

I'll  go  there!'1  Then,  pressing  both  hands  to  his  temples, 
he  said,  in  a  low,  plaintive  tone  :  '  My  head 's  very  wild  ;  I 
can't  think  anymore.  All 's  confused  and  strange.  Where 
did  you  say  Lucy  was  ?  Nothing  has  happened  to  her  ? ' 
He  took  Phillips  by  the  shoulders,  and  held  him  off  at  arms' 
length,  and  gazed  in  his  face.  Then,  with  a  faint  laugh,  he 
said:  'I  see — it's  all  right.  I  was  afraid  that  there  was 
something  wrong.'  And  he  sat  down.  '  There  can  't  be  any 
thing  wrong.  No  harm  can  have  happened  to  her  —  can 
there  ? ' 

Even  Phillips  was  unnerved  by  the  expression  of  deep 
anguish  stamped  upon  the  face  of  the  broken-down  man 
who  crouched  before  him  and  looked  so  wistfully  up  in  his 
face. 

'  Go  on,  Jack  ! '  said  he  ;  '  tell  me  all ;  what  she  said,  what 
she  did,  and  where  she  is.  There  is  something  wrong  here ! ' 
said  he,  touching  his  head;  'but  I  can  listen  when  you  talk 
of  her.  Go  on,  I  say.' 

Phillips,  thus  adjured,  and  recollecting  his  promise  to 
Lucy,  told  him  all  that  had  passed,  without  reserve. 

Wilkins  sat  motionless  in  his  chair,  with  his  hands  clasped 
around  his  knees,  and  his  wild  eyes  gleaming  like  two  stars 
from  amid  his  dishevelled  hair. 

'  Is  that  all  ? '  said  he,  when  Phillips  had  concluded. 
'  Tell  me  every  thing.  Do  n't  be  afraid.  I  'm  seared  here? 
said  he,  again  pointing  to  his  head ;  '  and  my  heart  won't 
break.  It 's  iron.' 

'  You  've  heard  all,  George  ;  her  last  words  were  a  bless 
ing  on  you.' 

'  Yes,  yes ! '  said  he,  rising  to  his  feet,  and  looking  va 
cantly  about  him.  'Yes,  yes:  I  know  that.  Poor  Lucy  I 
Well,  they  buried  her,  did  n't  they  ? '  And  he  looked  Phil 
lips  earnestly  in  the  face,  and  paused  until  he  was  answered. 


THE    ATTORNEY,  351 

'  That 's  all  right.  Where  was  it  ? '  said  he,  in  the  same 
vacant  manner,  and  pausing  as  before  for  an  answer. 

Phillips  mentioned  the  place,  and  Wilkins  stood  for  a  long 
time  with  his  hands  locked  together,  dreaming  over  it,  and 
in  his  mind  conjuring  up  the  memory  of  the  past,  and  trac 
ing  out  old  scenes. 

'  She  was  very  young  then,'  muttered  he,  '  with  her  long 
black  hair  playing  in  the  wind,  and  those  laughing  eyes  ! 
How  merry  her  voice  was  !  Her  laugh  went  to  one  's  heart ; 
yet  it  was  soft,  too.  She  was  very  gentle,  and  as  tender 
hearted  as  a  child.  After  that  I  did  n't  see  her  for  a  year  or 
two  ;  and  she  had  grown  to  be  quite  a  woman  —  and  I  mar 
ried  her.'  He  paused,  passed  his  hand  across  his  brow,  and 
looking  mournfully  at  Phillips,  said  :  '  Jack,  I  came  to  see 
you  about  something  ;  but  I  Ve  forgotten  what  it  was.  It 's 
a  sad  thing  to  have  a  bad  memory  —  very  sad.  Stop ! '  He 
placed  his  hands  over  his  eyes,  and  stood  for  some  minutes 
in  silence.  '  It  was  something  about  Lucy.  What  did  you 
say  of  her  ?  Where  is  she  2 ' 

Phillips  rose  and  took  his  hands  in  his.  He  had  no  trace 
of  anger  against  him  now.  He  could  not  have  harbored  it 
for  an  instant  against  the  poor  brain-shattered  being  before 
him. 

(  Sit  down,  George,'  said  he,  '  sit  down  ;  and  I  '11  tell  it 
all  again.  Do,  there's  a  good  fellow.' 

But  Wilkins  impatiently  repeated  his  question  :  '  What 
was  it  ?  What  was  it  ?  Where  is  she  ?  Do  n't  worry  me, 
Jack.  I  'm  very  feeble.  Where  is  she  ? ' 

'  Poor  fellow  ! '  exclaimed  Phillips. 

'  Oh  !  Jack,  this  is  not  right ! '  said  Wilkins,  earnestly  ; 
'  it 's  not  right  to  keep  her  away.  Where  is  she  ?  Let  me 
know  the  worst.' 

'  I  have  already  told  you,  George.' 


352  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'  Yes,  yes ;  I  know  it :  but  tell  me  again.   Where  is,  she  ?' 
Phillips's  answer  was  almost  a  whisper,  as  he  said,  '  In  the 
grave  ! ' 

Wilkins  shrank  from  him  ;  and  ,with  something  like  a 
shudder  attempted  to  draw  his  coat  around  him,  as  if  attacked 
by  sudden  cold.  The  next  instant,  without  noise,  almost  like 
a  shadow,  he  passed  from  the  room,  and  was  in  the  street. 

On  the  second  night  after  Wilkins's  interview  with  Phil 
lips,  a  man  was"  passing  through  the  village  where  Lucy  was 
buried.  He  walked  feebly,  and  occasionally  paused  and 
looked  up  at  the  clear  sky,  and  said  something  in  a  low  tone, 
and  then  went  on. 

Pale,  emaciated,  with  hollow  eyes  and  sunken  cheeks,  none 
would  have  recognized  Wilkins ;  yet  he  it  was.  Disease 
and  remorse  had  done  their  work,  and  the  wild  glassy  eye 
which  glittered  in  the  pale  moon-beam  like  a  living  flame, 
showed  that  the  spirit  within  was  burning  too  brightly  for 
reason. 

Once  or  twice  he  observed  persons  coming  from  an  oppo 
site  direction,  and  he  shrank  into  the  bushes,  and  crouched 
there  until  they  had  passed,  and  then  resumed  his  course 
toward  the  church.  Sometimes  he  stood  still,  stared  va 
cantly  about  him,  then  placing  his  hand  to  his  forehead, 
hurried  forward,  muttering  as  before. 

Arrived  at  the  gate  of  the  edifice,  he  stopped,  and,  as  if 
altering  his  mind,  quitted  it  and  went  to  the  front  of  the 
church  and  tried  the  door.  It  was  not  bolted,  and  opened 
with  a  melancholy  creak,  which  echoed  up  the  empty  aisles. 
Wilkins  listened,  shook  his  head,  and  went  in.  He  wan 
dered  listlessly  up  one  aisle  and  down  another.  At  last, 
coming  to  a  pew-door,  he  opened  it,  entered,  and  sat  down. 
Before  him  lay  a  small  prayer-book,  much  worn  and  stained, 


THE    ATTORNEY.  353 

but  on  it  a  name  was  still  legible  in  gilt  letters^     He  took  it 
up  and  held  it  in  the  moom-light,  where  he  read  in  the  in 
distinct  lio-kt  the  words  LUCY  WATERS.    It  was  the  name  of- 
o 

his  wife  before  he  had  married  her.  He  laid  the  book  in  its 
place,  and  bending  his  head  forward  against  it,  groaned 
audibly.  '  Lucy  ! '  whispered  he  ;  '  Lucy  !  dear  Lucy  !  Do 
you  hear  me  \  Pray  for  me,  Lucy  ! ' 

He  listened,  as  if  expecting  an  answer ;  then  turned  and 
gazed  timidly  about  him.  '  Lucy  !  Lucy  !  I  say  ; '  exclaimed 
he  more  loudly,  pushing  back  the  matted  hair  which 
hung  over  his  eyes,  and  staring  wildly  around  the  church. 
Getting  up,  he  went  along  the  aisle  to  the  door  communicat 
ing  with  the  burial-ground.  This  he  flung  open,  and  strode 
out,  keeping  on  until  his  eye  rested  on  a  simple  tablet  at 
the  farthest  end  of  the  yard,  newly  erected,  and  the  inscrip 
tion  on  which  was  plainly  legible  in  the  moon-light.  He 
stopped  and  read :  'Lucy,  wife  of  George  Wilkins?  '  That 's 
me  ! '  muttered  he  ;  '  that 's  me  ! ' 

He  crouched  on  the  sod.  He  bowed  his  head  to  the 
earth ;  thick-crowding  fancies,  mingled  with  all  phantasies 
of  madness,  came  sweeping  through  his  brain.  The  present 
was  forgotten.  Again  he  was  a  boy  ;  again  the  bright  days 
of  youth  and  purity  were  before  him  :  his  past  life  was  a 
dream.  She  could  not  be  dead!  That  warm,  confiding 
heart,  which  had  loved  him  so  well,  could  not  be  cold  for 
ever  !  It  was  a  dream  ;  a  wild  and  troubled  dream  !  He 
shouted  loudly  to  awake  himself;  but  he  aivoke  not.  He 
clutched  the  dank  weeds  in  his  hands  ;  he  knelt  down  upon 
the  grave  ;  he  laid  his  cheek  to  the  cold  earth  that  shrouded 
her,  and  whispered  her  name.  He  whispered  it  again,  in 
those  low,  gentle  tones  which,  in  the  clays  of  their  early 
attachment,  she  had  always  loved  and  always  responded  to. 
He  whispered  it  a^ain.  '  No  answer ! '  muttered  he.  '  She 's 


354  THE    ATTORNEY. 

gone !  she 's  gone  for  ever !  or  she  would  not  have  been 
silent  now,  when  ray  heart  is  broken,  and  all  the  world  is 
against  me.  Lucy  !  Lucy  !  dear  Lucy  !  do  you  hear  me  ? 
Answer,  oh  !  answer  me  now  ! ' 

The  wretched  man  stretched  himself  upon  the  cold  earth, 
and  sobbed  like  a  heart-broken  girl.  The  past  came  crowd 
ing  upon  him,  until  by  degrees  the  mild  fit  was  over.  He 
remembered  the  hot,  angry  feelings  between  himself  and  his 
wife  ;  his  taunts,  his  bickerings,  his  sneers ;  and  last  of  all 
the  blow  which  had  separated  them  for  ever.  Then  he 
thought  of  his  tempter  —  of  Bolton.  Revenge  was  now 
uppermost.  Frantic  with  fury,  he  sprang  from  the  grave, 
rushed  through  the  church-yard,  flung  open  the  gate,  and 
hurried  down  the  road  as  if  life  and  death  depended  on  his 
speed. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  355 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

THE  attorney  had  been  admitted  to  bail  in  a  heavy  amount. 
Few  would  have  assisted  him  from  feelings  of  friendship  ;  but 
he  had  so  strong  a  hold  upon  the  fears  of  many,  that  he 
found  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  sureties  for  his  appearance  to 
stand  his  trial  and  abide  the  sentence  of  the  law.  These 
being  given,  he  was  once  more  at  large,  to  scheme  and  plan. 

It  was  on  a  bright,  clear  afternoon  that  he  was  walking 
along  the  street  toward  his  office.  That  morning  the  Sur 
rogate  had  decided  the  forged  Will  to  be  valid,  and  had 
admitted  it  to  probate.  The  dearest  scheme  of  his  heart  had 
succeeded,  yet  he  wore  a  clouded  brow.  He  had  much  to 
harass  him,  for  the  Grand  Jury  had  brought  in  a  bill  against 
him  for  his  attempt  upon  the  life  of  Wilkins,  and  in  a  few 
days  he  would  be  obliged  to  appear  as  a  felon  at  the  bar. 
He  felt  but  too  truly  that  his  course  had  been  such  as  to 
repel  all  sympathy,  and  to  gather  about  his  path  only  those 
who  would  rejoice  at  his  downfall.  '  Imprisonment !  disgrace ! 
a  convict !  —  a  convict ! '  muttered  he.  '  Shall  I  run  for  it  ?  — 
forfeit  my  recognizance,  and  in  a  foreign  land  laugh  to  scorn 
their  laws,  and  shut  my  ears  to  the  opinion  of  the  world  ? 
My  wealth  will  command  respect.  The  world  might  taunt 
with  his  infamy  '  Bolton,  the  plodding  lawyer,  who  starved 
on  his  fees  and  truckled  to  the  rich  ; '  but  who  will  dare  to 
insult  the  owner  of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  ? '  And 
he  raised  himself  erect,  and  looked  menacingly  about  him, 
as  if  to  confront  any  such  offender,  while  his  lip  curled  in 
scorn  of  those  who  in  his  fancy  bent  the  knee  to  his  coffers. 


356  THE    ATTORNEY. 

'Well,  well;  I'll  think  of  it.  There's  time  enough  yet. 
Could  I  but  bribe  those  witnesses  to  forfeit  their  bonds  and 
be  out  of  the  way,  I  might  easily  silence  Wilkins.  Indeed, 
I  'm  told  that  he  was  seen  but  yesterday,  stark  mad  ;  so  that 
his  evidence  goes  for  nothing.  One  of  those  men  is  poor ; 
gold  might  work  upon  him  —  and  I  could  spare  much  rather 
than  risk  this  public  exposure.  But  the  other  —  the  doctor ; 
there  's  the  rub  —  there  's  the  rub  ! ' 

Thus  musing  and  muttering,  Bolton  went  on.  But  he  felt 
that  he  had  not  that  steadiness  of  purpose  which  usually 
marked  him.  There  was  a  heaviness  about  his  faculties  which 
he  could  not  shake  off;  and  at  times  a  strange  fear  flung  its 
shadow  over  his  heart.  It  came  and  went  almost  in  the  same 
moment,  leaving  nothing  behind  it  but  a  vague  dread  of — 
he  knew  not  what.  He  could  trace  it  to  no  cause.  He 
endeavored  to  reason  himself  out  of  it.  He  was  in  perfect 
health ;  somewhat  jaded  and  worn  down  by  mental  anxiety, 
it  was  true  ;  but  his  physical  condition  had  never  been  bet 
ter.  He  drew  a  long  breath.  His  lungs  played  freely.  He 
stamped  his  foot  on  the  ground  to  try  its  strength.  '  Nothing 
wrong  there'  said  he.  '  I  should  say  that  twenty  good  years 
were  before  me.  I  may  have  taxed  my  brain,  but  I  never 
abused  my  body ;  and  the  reward  of  my  abstinence  will  be 
a  green  old  age  —  ay,  and  a  wealthy  one ! '  As  he  said  this, 
the  word  '  IMPRISONMENT  '  sounded  so  distinctly  in  his  ear 
that  it  made  him  start;  and  he  turned  to  see  who  had 
uttered  it ;  but  there  was  no  one  near ;  and  then  came  that 
same  dark,  creeping  sensation  of  fear.  The  sky  was  clear 
and  cloudless  ;  the  world  was  teeming  with  life  ;  thousands 
were  moving  about  him,  full  of  strength  and  vigor,  pursuing 
their  every-day  plans,  and  each  carrying  out  his  own  great 
scheme  of  existence.  They  had  no  apprehension.  They  had 
no  forebodings.  They  were  but  men,  mortal  like  himself; 


THE    ATTORNEY.  357 

and  why  should  he  be  "haunted  with  these  forebodings  when 
they  were  not  ?  ^Tliey  are  not  dreamers]  said  he,  *  and  I  am  ! ' 

It  was  late  when  he  came  to  the  house  m  which  was  his 
office.  Every  thing  seemed  so  bright  and  cheerful  in  the 
streets,  and  the  interior  of  the  old  building  looked  so  gloomy 
and  chilly,  that  he  felt  reluctant  to  enter  it,  but  strolled  on 
until  it  began  to  grow  dark.  Then  he  returned  toward  it. 
At  the  door  he  stopped,  and  looked  up  and  down  the  street 
and  at  the  sky.  There  were  thoughts  in  the  head  of  that 
man  as  he  stood  there,  with  his  face  turned  toward  the  clear 
heavens,  which  had  never  been  there  before ;  yet  he  spoke 
not  a  word,  but  drawing  a  long  breath  of  pure  air,  as  if  to 
fortify  himself  against  the  stagnant  exhalations  within,  slowly 
ascended  the  stairs  and  entered  his  office. 

'  You  may  go,  Tom,'  said  he  to  the  boy,  who  was  out  of 
the  office  almost  before  the  sentence  was  concluded. 

Bolton  looked  abstractedly  at  the  door  after  he  was  gone, 
as  if  he  had  something  to  say  to  him,  and  was  endeavoring 
to  recall  it  to  his  mind ;  and  then  he  went  into  the  other 
room  and  sat  down.  Several  letters  were  lying  on  the  table  ; 
and  although  it  was  his  habit  to  open  all  letters  immediately, 
yet  he  was  now  so  absorbed  in  his  own  reflections-,  that  he 
did  not  perceive  them.  At  last  he  got  up,  lighted  a  candle, 
and  taking  them  up  one  by  one,  read  their  superscriptions. 
One  was  in  the  hand-writing  of  Higgs;  and  this,  with  a 
slight  feeling  of  trepidation,  he  opened.  It  ran  thus  : 

'  DEAR  SIR  :  I  've  been  at  the  Surrogate's  office  to-day,  and 
find  that  the  old  boy  has  gone  in  your  favor.  When  will 
you  be  ready  to  hand  over  the  twenty  thousand  dollars  ?  I 
want  to  get  it  as  soon  as  possible,  and  be  off;  for  after  swear 
ing  to  the  execution  of  a  document  that  never  was  executed, 
and  to  the  signature  of  that  very  respectable  old  gentleman, 


358  THE    ATTORNEY. 

John  Ci  awford,  who  I  never  clapped  eyes  on  in  all  my  life, 
I  feel  as  if  the  air  of  the  city  was  n't  healthy  for  me.  Per 
jury  has  done  for  Wilkins,  for  he  's  gone  mad  and  will  die 
soon  ;  so  you  '11  get  clear  of  paying  him,  and  might,  in  con 
sideration  of  that,  toss  me  over  a  few  odd  thousands.  But 
I  don't  press  that;  and  as  we  made  the  bargain  fairly 
beforehand,  I  '11  stick  to  it ;  and  to  tell  the  truth,  I  Ve  known 
many  a  clever  fellow  swear  to  a  lie  for  less  than  half  the 
money.  I  '11  call  to-morrow ;  and  if  you  can  pony  up  by 
that  time,  I  'd  like  it  all  the  better,  as  I  want  to  be  out  of 
the  reach  of  the  law,  which  has  a  devil  of  a  long  arm. 

'  WILLIAM  HIGGS.' 

'The  sooner  he  goes,  the  better!'  said  Bolton,  throwing 
the  letter  on  the  table.  *  His  testimony,  if  wanted  hereafter, 
can  be  taken  under  a  commission ;  and  if  not  needed,  he  's 
better  out  of  the  way.  But  twenty  thousand  dollars  cannot 
be  raised  by  to-morrow.  The  thing 's  impossible.' 

He  sat  drumming  his  fingers  on  the  table,  until  they  acci- 
clently  touched  one  of  the  other  letters.  He  took  it  up  and 
held  it  to  the  light.  '  It 's  from  Camden,'  said  he ;  *  that  old 
matter  of  Whalter  and  Ross.  Let 's  see  what  he  says.' 

He  broke  the  seal  and  read  the  first  page,  and  then  laid 
the  letter  down.  He  then  opened  the  others,  glanced  at  their 
contents,  and  threw  them  from  him.  As  he  did  so,  his  eye 
accidentally  fell  again  on  the  letter  from  Mr.  Camden  ;  and 
at  the  lower  part  of  the  page,  below  the  signature,  he 
observed  the  two  words,  'Turn  over.'  Mechanically  he  took 
up  the  letter  and  read  the  postscript  attached.  In  an  instant 
his  brow  became  knitted,  his  breath  short  and  spasmodic. 
His  eyes  seemed  starting  from  their  sockets  ;  and  then,  with 
a  feeble,  plaintive  cry,  almost  like  the  wail  of  an  infant,  he 
sank  back  in  his  chair,  completely  powerless,  his  arms  droop- 


THE    ATTORNEY.  359 

ing  at  his  side,  but  with  his  eyes  still  fixed  on  the  letter.    The 
contents  were  these : 

T,  ' 'Albany.  March  10,  183-. 

'  REUBEN  BOLTQN,  ESQ.  : 

'  DEAR  SIR  :  Will  you  inform  your  client  that  Mr.  Isaacs 
will  have  the  money  ready  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  on  his 
farm  in  a  week  from  to-day,  at  which  time  I  will  remit  you 
a  draft  for  the  amount  on  one  of  the  banks  in  your  city. 

'  The  proposal  made  by  you,  in  the  suit  of  Whalter  vs.  Ross, 
Mr.  Whalter  declines  acceding  to ;  and  unless  a  more  favor 
able  one  can  be  made,  I  shall  notice  ths  cause  for  trial  at  the 
next  Circuit.  You  can  see  Mr.  Ross,  and  learn  whether  he 
has  any  thing  better  to  offer.  Let  me  hear  from  you  as 
early  as  possible  ;  as,  in  the  event  of  my  not  doing  so,  I  shall 
suppose  that  you  have  nothing  further  to  propose,  and  shall 
proceed  accordingly.  '  Yours  respectfully, 

(Turn  over.)  '  JOHN  CAMDEN. 

'  P.  S.  I  have  just  heard  of  the  death  of  a  client  of  yours, 
John  Crawford.  In  the  month  of  October  last  he  was  taken 
suddenly  ill  in  this  city,  and  being  much  alarmed,  got  me  to 
draw  up  a  Will,  which  he  executed.  He  afterwards  recovered, 
and  went  off,  leaving  it  with  me,  intending  to  call  for  it  on 
his  return.  His  business,  howrever,  taking  him  in  another 
direction,  he  did  not  return  to  Albany,  and  the  Will  is  still 
in  my  possession.  I  shall  be  in  the  city  in  a  few  days,  and 
will  bring  it  with  me.  Please  communicate  this  to  his  daugh 
ter,  who,  being  his  sole  devisee,  is  the  most  interested  in  the 
matter.  j.  c.' 

Here  was  a  Will  of  later  date  than  his  ;  and  all  the  attor 
ney's  hopes  and  plans  were  blasted.  Hour  after  hour  passed  ; 
still  there  he  sat,  looking  at  that  letter.  He  seemed  to  have 
grown  old  since  he  entered  the  room.  His  face  was  haggard ; 


360  THE    ATTORNEY. 

his  temples  sunken  ;  and  he  twisted  his  fingers  together  with 
a  kind  of  childish  helplessness. 

It  was  near  midnight ;  and  a  faint  noise  echoing  through 
the  street  made  him  start  and  cast  his  eyes  fearfully  about 
him ;  for  he  had  grown  within  the  last  few  hours  as  super 
stitious  as  a  child.  Then  he  thought  of  getting  up  and  going 
to  his  own  home,  away  from  this  sad,  gloomy  office ;  but  he 
was  afraid.  His  thoughts  were  not  of  punishment.  They 
were  of  the  grave ;  of  the  earth-worm ;  of  the  future,  and 
its  unknown  eternity.  He  began  to  recall  to  mind  what  he 
had  done,  which  he  must  account  for  hereafter.  He  began 
to  think  his  acts  over  one  by  one.  How  clear  his  memory 
was !  He  recollected,  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday,  one  man 
whom  he  had  defrauded  of  all  he  owned.  He  had  died  in 
that  very  room,  at  his  feet ;  and  had  cursed  him  with  his 
dying  breath.  He  knew  that  that  curse  was  upon  him  ;  he 
felt  its  weight  palpably  pressing  him  to  the  earth.  Well,  the 
man  had  died ;  they  said  his  heart  was  broken ;  his  family 
had  become  beggars,  and  his  only  child,  a  beautiful  girl,  was 
now  a  common  harlot  in  the  streets.  He  thought  of  a  poor 
woman  whose  son  he  had  imprisoned  years  before,  for  a 
trifling  debt.  The  son  died  in  jail,  and  the  mother  went  mad, 
and  would  watch  for  hours  at  the  office-door  until  he  came 
out ;  and  then  would  shake  her  long,  skinny  finger  at  him, 
and  laugh  in  his  ear  until  it  made  his  flesh  creep.  Then  he 
thought  of  many  who  had  come  to  him  in  his  legal  capacity ; 
those  whom  he  was  grinding  to  the  dust,  to  beg  for  a  little 
delay  ;  but  a  week,  nay,  even  a  day,  and  they  would  pay  him 
all ;  but,  like  a  good  lawyer,  and  one  who  had  the  interests 
of  his  clients  at  heart,  he  had  crushed  them  to  the  earth ; 
had  wrung  from  them  their  last  cent,  and  had  thrown  it  into 
the  coffers  of  the  rich  whom  he  served.  He  had  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  them  all ;  but  they  came  now.  They  would  be 


THE    ATTORNEY.  361 

heard !  Their  cries  were  ringing  in  his  ear.  He  fancied  that 
he  saw  this  sad  array  coming  slowly  down  the  dim  street; 
gliding  into  the  old  building  one  after  another  :  shadowy  and 
spectral,  on  they  came,  up  the  creaking  stairs,  along  the  da'rk 
entry,  until  they  were  crowding  at  the  door  of  the  office. 
He  could  hear  them  whisper,  and  fancied  that  they  were 
pointing  at  him  from  without. 

He  drew  his  chair  closer  to  the  fire,  and  stirred  up -the 
dying  coals,  for  he  was  beginning  to  be  chilly ;  and  felt  that 
if  there  were  a  blaze  it  would  be  less  lonely.  He  coughed 
loudly,  too,  and  rattled  the  poker  against  the  bars  of  the 
grate ;  for  there  was  something  in  the  dead  silence  that  made 
him  shudder.  The  feeling,  however,  would  not  go  off;  for 
when  he  ceased,  the  stillness  seemed  more  intense  and  fear 
ful.  He  would  have  given  worlds  to  have  been  in  his  own 
room  in  bed  ;  but  he  dared  not  venture  along  that  dark  pass 
age,  crowded  with  accusers.  Then  he  fancied  that  the 
office  looked  darker  and  more  gloomy  than  usual,  and  that 
the  lights  were  duller,  and  he  got  up  and  trimmed  them ; 
but  still  there  was  the  same  dim,  uncertain  light.  He  tried 
to  argue  himself  out  of  these  fears ;  to  laugh  them  off  as 
ridiculous ;  and  he  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair  and 
laughed  aloud.  If  ever  mortal  man  felt  the  agony  of  terror, 
he  did  ;  for  at  that  moment  his  laugh  was  echoed  from  the 
entry !  Crouching  back  in  his  chair,  with  his  heart  beating 
fast  and  hard,  and  gasping  for  breath,  his  hair  bristling,  he 
sat  watching  the  door.  He  heard  a  slight  motion  in  the 
entry,  like  a  sliding,  creeping  step.  It  stopped.  Then  it 
came  again,  and  nearer ;  then  a  hand  touched  the  knob,  and 
was  withdrawn.  Then  it  took  it  again,  turned  it,  and  opened 
the  door  ajar ;  and  two  bright  eyes  glared  in  through  the 
crack.  It  opened  wider ;  and  a  tall,  gaunt  figure  stole  cau 
tiously  in,  turning  the  key  after  it.  It  then  slowly  and  with 
16 


362  THE   ATTORNEY. 

a  cat-like  step  crept  toward  the  attorney,  until  it  came  in  the 
full  light  of  the  candles. 

With  a  feeling  partly  of  horror  and  partly  of  relief,  Bol- 
ton  sprang  to  his  feet  as  the  light  revealed  to  him  the  ghastly 
features  of  Wilkins. 

*  Wilkins !'  exclaimed  he. 

1  That 's  me ! '  said  the  other,  looking  vacantly  about  him. 
'  That 's  me !  I  wonder  where  Lucy  is ! ' 

'Lucy? —  your  wife?'  exclaimed  the  attorney,  staring  at 
him.  '  Why,  you  should  know.  She  's  dead,  long  ago.' 

*  They  told  me  so,'  said  he,  shaking  his  head  sadly ;  '  but 
I  did  n't  believe  it.     She  would  n't  die  and  leave  me  all 
alone.     I  know  she  would  n't.     It  was  n't  like  her.' 

*  Poor  fellow  ! '  muttered  Bolton.     '  It 's  too  true,     She  's 
dead.' 

'  Dead !  Then  who  murdered  her  ? '  shouted  the  maniac, 
confronting  the  attorney ;  '  who  murdered  her,  I  say  ? ' 
screamed  he,  advancing ;  '  who  murdered  her  ?  I  '11  tell  you 
who  did  it !  It  was  Reuben  Bolton !  He  did  it !  She  told 
me  so,  in  the  grave-yard.  I  laid  my  head  upon  her  grave, 
and  she  spoke  to  me,  and  told  me  ;  and  I  swore  I  would  have 
revenge !  And  now  I  'm  looking  for  him  ! ' 

*  Good  God  !  George  ! '  exclaimed  the  attorney,  shrinking 
from   the   excited  madman,   'I  never  harmed  your  wife; 
indeed,  I  did  not ! ' 

'  Who  are  you  ? '  demanded  Wilkins,  clutching  him  by  the 
coat,*  and  dragging  him  forward  with  a  strength  that  his 
appearance  scarcely  warranted.  *  Ha !  have  I  found  you  ? ' 

'  God  !  George  !  I  never  harmed  your  wife  ! '  exclaimed 
Bolton,  absolutely  paralyzed  with  fear ;  *  never,  on  my  soul ! ' 

*  You  lie  !  you  lie  !     Where  is  she  then  ? '  demanded  Wil 
kins,  roused  to  a  perfect  frenzy  of  madness.     '  I  swore  I  'd 
revenge   her!      I've   caught   him!  —  now   for   his   blood! 


THE    ATTORNEY.  363 

Huzza !  huzza ! '  shouted  he,  dashing  his  hand  in  his  bosom, 
and  drawing  out  a  large  knife. 

*  God  of  heaven  I  protect  me ! '  exclaimed  the  attorney, 
struggling  to  get  loose.  '  Help !  help  !  help  !' 

Now,  however,  Wilkins  was  ungovernable.  He  sprang 
upon  the  attorney,  and  bore  him  to  the  earth ;  but  Bolton 
was  a  muscular  man,  and,  driven  to  desperation,  he  struggled 
fiercely.  He  threw  Wilkins  from  him,  and  although  wounded, 
contrived  to  get  to  his  feet  and  grasp  the  iron  poker.  This, 
however,  offered  but  slight  resistance  to  the  maniac.  Re 
gardless  of  blows,  he  dashed  in  upon  the  attorney,  and  drove 
the  knife  to  the  haft  in  his  stomach,  and  drew  it  out  with  a 
long  downward  cut ;  and  as  the  wretched  man  fell,  he  sprang 
upon  him,  and  hacked  and  gashed  him  until  his  loud  screams 
were  stopped  by  the  blood  that  gushed  up  from  his  throat, 
and  his  groans  and  cries  sank  into  silence. 

IN  the  morning,  when  the  clerk  came  to  open  the  office, 
the  key  was  not  in  its  usual  place.  He  knocked,  thinking 
that  business  had  called  the  attorney  there  earlier  than  usual ; 
but  all  was  quiet.  He  went  to  Bolton's  lodgings  ;  but  he 
had  not  been  there.  He  returned  and  wandered  about  the 
premises,  supposing  that  Bolton  might  have  gone  out,  and 
would  be  back  shortly.  But  hour  after  hour  passed,  and  it 
became  late  in  the  morning ;  still  Bolton  did  not  come.  By 
this  time  the  clerk's  anxiety  had  increased,  and  fear  and  sus 
picion  began  to  take  the  place  of  uncertainty.  These  com 
municated  themselves  to  others  to  whom  he  mentioned  them. 
A  small  group  collected  about  the  house,  and  finally  ascended 
to  the  office-door  and  knocked.  No  answer.  One  of  them 
then  placed  his  shoulder  to  it,  and  burst  it  open. 

On  the  floor  in  front  of  them,  stone-dead,  was  the  lawyer ; 


864  THE    ATTORNEY. 

and  crouching  at  his  side  like  a  wild  beast,  with  his  long 
talons  still  clenched  in  the  folds  of  the  cravat  of  his  victim, 
sat  an  object  which  scarcely  seemed  human ;  his  large  eyes 
glaring  like  fire  from  the  deep  caverns  in  which  they  were 
sunken,  his  beard  black  and  unshorn,  his  teeth  protruding 
like  fangs,  his  face  dabbled  with  dirt  and  blood,  his  clothes 
in  rags,  and  his  hair  hanging  like  ropes  on  his  shoulders. 
Such  was  Wilkins ! 

They  rushed  in  and  dragged  him  from  his  prey.  He  made 
no  resistance,  but  laughed  until  he  made  the  building  ring ; 
and  then  with  a  shout  he  suddenly  broke  from  them,  and 
darted  out  of  the  house  with  a  speed  that  baffled  all  pursuit. 

There  was  one  tie  of  relationship  that  yet  linked  Wilkins 
to  the  earth,  and  that  was  a  mother,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
for  years ;  and  toward  her  home,  with  that  strange  instinct 
that  sometimes  lingers  in  a  blasted  mind  when  all  else  is 
wrecked  for  ever,  he  directed  his  course ;  sometimes  pausing, 
sometimes  straying  far  off  in  another  direction,  but  in  the 
end  always  making  that  his  destination.  And  so  he  wan 
dered  on  until  night ;  and  then,  haggard  and  broken  dofm 
like  one  in  the  last  stage  of  mortal  disease,  he  stood  before 
his  mother.  Thirty  miles  had  the  miserable  man  come  that 
day  on  foot.  His  feet  were  bleeding,  and  left  their  red  tracks 
on  the  floor  as  he  crossed  it.  '  Lock  the  door,  mother,'  said 
he,  gazing  wildly  about  him ;  '  they  're  after  me ! ' 

*  George !  my  boy !  my  own  dear  boy  ! '  exclaimed  the  old 
woman,  hobbling  across   the   room  and  flinging  her  arms 
about  his  neck,  as  soon  as  she  recognized  him ;  '  and  you 
have  come  at  last ! ' 

*  Why  do  n't  you  lock  the  door  ? '  said  he,  looking  rest 
lessly  around  as  he  spoke.     *  They  're  after  me  ;  and  they  '11 
have  me  I     Oh !  mother !  save  me  from  them  ! '     And  tho 


THE    ATTORNEY.  365 

wretched  outcast  threw  his  arms  about  her,  and  buried  his 
face  in  her  bosom,  as  if  he  were  again  a  child,  and  sought 
the  shelter  which  she  once  could  give. 

His  mother  gradually  withdrew  herself  from  his  hold,  and 
going  to  the  door,  shut  and  bolted  it.  '  There,  George, 
you  're  safe  now,'  said  she  ;  '  now  tell  me  all  about  it.  What 
ails  you  ?  And  Lucy,  where  is  she  ? ' 

But  Wilkins's  mind  was  wandering,  and  he  seemed  rest 
less.  He  got  up  and  went  to  the  door ;  then  returned,  and 
then  went  to  it  again,  and  tried  the  bolts  and  bars  ;  and 
having  done  this,  he  sat  down  and  took  her  hand,  and  looked 
up  in  her  face  with  a  childish  vacancy  that  made  her  fear 
the  worst ;  and  then  he  laid  his  head  quietly  on  her  knees, 
and  was  soon  asleep. 

He  slept  for  more  than  an  hour ;  a  perturbed  and  broken 
slumber,  sometimes  muttering  to  himself,  sometimes  laughing 
in  a  low  merry  tone,  and  at  times  gnashing  his  teeth.  At 
last  he  awoke,  and  sat  up,  gazing  about  the  room. 

*  Mother  ! '  said  he,  in  a  low  tone,  *  is  that  you  ? ' 

*  Yes,  my  child  ! '  said  she,  bending  over  him,  and  putting 
his  matted  hair  back  from  his  sunken  forehead. 

'And  it 's  all  a  dream ! '  muttered  he ;  '  all  a  dream  !  Well, 
well ;  I  thought  that  I  had  become  a  man,  and  had  married ; 
and  that  she  was  in  her  grave,  and  that  he  had  murdered  her, 
and  that  I  killed  him,  and  that  they  were  after  me.  Is  that 
blood  on  my  hands,  mother  ? '  said  he,  suddenly  starting  up 
and  extending  toward  her  his  two  hands,  which  were  still 
stained  with  the  blood  of  his  last  night's  work.  '  Is  that 
blood  ?  Have  I  killed  any  body  ? 

'  No,  no,  my  dear  boy  ;  you  have  not ! '  exclaimed  his 
mother.  '  Lie  down,  lie  down ;  that 's  a  dear  boy.  You  're 
very  tired ;  so  go  to  sleep.' 

Wilkins  made  no  reply ;  but  sat  gazing  with  a  troubled 


366  THE    ATTORNEY. 

look  at  his  own  hands.  At  last  lie  again  laid  his  head  upon 
her  knees.  '  Cover  me  up,  mother  ;  I  'm  very  cold.'  His 
mother  threw  something  over  him.  '  There,  now  put  your 
arms  around  me.  You  '11  keep  them  off  when  they  come, 
won't  you  ? ' 

The  old  woman  bent  her  head  over  him  and  wept ;  and 
the  wretched  man,  nestling  up  to  her  like  a  child,  looked  in 
her  face  and  smiled,  then  laid  his  head  down  and  closed  his 
eyes. 

He  never  opened  them  again ;  for  when  his  mother 
attempted  to  arouse  him,  after  a  long  time,  his  head  fell 
back.  Wilkins  was  dead ! 


THE    ATTORNEY.  367 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

FAR  and  wide  rang  the  news  of  that  fearful  murder.  Men 
stopped  each  other  to  talk  of  it  in  the  crowded  streets,  and 
women  gossiped  over  it  at  their  fire-sides  until  they  drove 
the  blood  from  their  own  cheeks.  From  morning  till  night 
hundreds  loitered  about  the  blood-stained  building,  gazing  at 
its  old  walls  and  crumbling  cornices  with  that  mixture  of 
apprehension  and  delight  which  go  hand  in  hand  so  strangely. 
Some  were  busy  in  conjecturing  which  was  the  room  wherein 
the  deed  was  done.  Some  stood  in  silence  with  folded  arms. 
One  or  two  ventured  into  the  passage  and  up  the  stairs ;  and 
as  they  creaked  beneath  their  tread,  they  sank  their  voices 
and  spoke  in  whispers ;  and  having  looked  at  the  door  of 
the  office,  and  pointed  it  out  to  each  other,  they  slunk  out, 
without  going  in,  glad  to  be  once  more  in  the  open  air.  At 
last  the  police  took  the  matter  in  hand.  They  were  used  to 
such  matters.  They  went  to  the  room  and  examined  it ; 
overhauled  the  papers,  winked  their  eyes  solemnly  at  the 
bloody  knife,  which  still  lay  on  the  floor  :  shook  their  heads 
and  made  profound  remarks  to  each  other,  in  a  tone  which 
struck  peculiar  awe  to  the  hearts  of  three  small  boys  who 
had  followed  at  their  heels.  After  taking  voluminous  notes, 
they  came  out,  shut  the  door  with  a  loud  bang,  and  locked 
it,  so  that  none  should  enter.  The  crowd  hung  about 
the  spot  for  several  days ;  but  as  the  wonder  grew  stale,  it 
gradually  melted  away,  leaving  the  old  house  to  silence  and 
an  evil  name. 

But  bright  things  were  in  store  for  others  who  h-we  largely 


368  THE    ATTORNEY. 

figured  in  this  story.  Mingled  with  the  rumors  which  were 
rife  respecting  the  death  of  the  attorney,  was  one  of  the 
detection  of  the  foul  fraud  attempted  by  him  against  the 
daughter  of  Mr.  Crawford,  which  had  been  brought  to  light 
by  letters  found  in  his  possession  at  the  time  of  his  death. 
These  reports,  reaching  the  ears  of  Mr.  Camden,  hastened 
his  movements.  He  forthwith  proceeded  to  the  city  with 
the  authentic  Will  of  Mr.  Crawford  in  his  possession.  Before 
his  arrival,  having  been  informed  of  all  that  had  transpired 
respecting  the  forged  document,  and  being  ignorant  of  the 
address  of  Miss  Crawford,  he  went  directly  to  Mr.  Fisk,  to 
whom  he  delivered  the  real  Will,  and  who  immediately  took 
the  proper  steps  to  have  it  admitted  to  probate,  and  the  pre 
vious  one  annulled. 

Great  was  the  joy  of  Dr.  Thurston  on  receiving  this  news. 
He  hastened  to  Miss  Crawford's  house,  and  kicked  the  slow 
servant,  partly  because  he  kept  him  waiting  too  long  at  the 
door,  and  partly  because  he  told  him  that  what  he  was  so 
anxious  to  communicate  belonged  to  that  valuable  class  of 
information  called,  by  way  of  distinction,  '  piper's  news.'  Once 
in  the  house,  he  hurried  to  Miss  Crawford's  apartment,  took 
both  of  her  hands,  shook  them  violently,  gave  her  a  hearty 
salute,  and  then  trotted  out  of  the  room.  When  in  the  entry, 
however,  it  struck  him  that  he  had  not  sufficiently  testified  his 
satisfaction ;  so  he  opened  the  door,  thru,st  in  his  head,  and 
exclaiming,  'Damme!  I'm  delighted!'  shut  it  after  him, 
and  sallied  into  the  parlor,  where  he  repeated  nearly  the 
same  ceremonies  (omitting  the  salute)  upon  Wharton,  whom 
he  found  sitting  there.  Having  thus  got  rid  of  the  first 
ebullition  of  his  satisfaction,  he  commenced  walking  up  and 
down  the  room,  rubbing  his  hands  together  as  if  deriving 
intense  enjoyment  from  the  operation;  occasionally  chuck 
ling,  and  hugging  himself  up  as  if  lately  seized  with  a  violent 


THE    ATTORNEY.  369 

and  somewhat  spasmodic  attachment  to  his  own  person.    At 
last  he  stopped  in  front  of  Wharton  : 

'  Frank  ! '  said  he. 

Wharton  looked  up. 

'  Helen  is  a  fine  girl  —  a  very  fine  girl ;  I  think  I  might 
venture  to  say,  a  d d  fine  girl ! ' 

Having  thus  vindicated  Miss  Crawford's  character,  and 
clenched  the  last  assertion  by  a  blow  of  his  fist  on  the  table, 
he  again  paced  the  room,  rubbing  his  hands,  and  hugging 
himself  more  violently  than  ever ;  while  Wharton  patiently 
waited  for  the  conclusion  of  the  sentence,  which  his  know 
ledge  of  the  Doctor's  habits  made  him  aware  would  come  in 
due  season. 

Rich,  too  —  rich,  Frank ;  handsome,  young  —  a  glorious 
girl!  —  a  prize  for  a  king!  Isn't  she?'  And  he  now 
looked  at  him  until  he  received  an  assenting  answer. 

'  No  body  in  the  world  to  care  for  her  but  me,  is  there  ? ' 

Again  he  paused,  and  looked  Wharton  steadily  in  the  face; 
but  this  time  no  answer  came. 

'  Very  well.  I  thought  as  much.  She  's  all  alone,  poor 
girl !  She  's  under  some  obligations  to  me,  too ;  and  she 
sha'  n't  go  a-begging  for  a  protector.  I  'm  not  so  very  old. 
Look  at  that  leg ! '  said  he,  stretching  out  his  right  supporter, 
'  and  that  arm ;  firm  as  iron  !  I ']!  marry  her  myself! ' 

As  he  said  this,  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  resumed  his 
walk,  without  appearing  to  notice  the  deep  flush  which  had 
covered  Wharton's  face  while  he  was  speaking. 

'  Do  n't  you  think  she  '11  take  me,  Frank  ? '  said  he,  again 
checking  himself  in  mid  career,  in  front  of  Wharton's  chair. 
'  I  know  she  will !  She  'd  be  very  ungrateful  if  she  did  not — 
very  ungrateful !  Come,  Frank,  you  must  go  at  once,  and 
make  the  offer  for  me.  Be  about  it,  boy  —  be  about  it !  I  'm 
afraid  some  one  else  will  get  the  start  of  me.' 
16* 


370  THE    ATTORNEY 

Wharton  turned  very  pale,  and  then  said : 

'  My  dear  Doctor,  I  think  —  that  is  —  I  would  rather  that 
you  should  select  some  other  person.  I  am  sure  that  I 
should  make  but  a  bad  messenger.  I  am  certain  that  I 
should  fail.' 

'  Why  ? '  said  the  old  man,  eyeing  him  sharply  ;  '  why  ? ' 

Wharton  became  slightly  embarrassed  ;  at  length  he  said : 
4  To  be  candid  with  you,  I  have  feelings  and  wishes  with 
respect  to  Miss  Crawford  totally  at  variance  with  your  suc 
cess  ;  and  therefore  it  is  unfair  in  you  to  ask  me  to  make  a 
proposal  which,  if  successful,  must  ruin  my  own  happiness.' 

'  You  have  ? '  said  the  Doctor,  quietly. 

'I  have.' 

'  And  you  intend  to  press  your  suit  in  opposition  to  mine  ? 
and  now  that  you  find  all  my  hopes  of  happiness  are  centred 
in  that  girl  and  her  welfare,  you  do  not  hesitate  to  thwart  the 
intentions  of  the  old  man  who  has  been  a  father  to  you,  and 
has  protected  you  from  childhood,  and  to  blight  the  dearest 
wish  of  his  heart  ?  Is  this  so,  Frank  ? ' 

It  was  a  hard  task  for  Wharton  to  struggle  against  feelings 
which  he  had  cherished  for  years ;  but  he  did  so ;  and  at 
last  he  took  the  hand  of  the  Doctor,  and  said :  'No,  my  old 
friend,  I  will  not.  You  shall  meet  no  obstacle  from  me. 
Marry  her  if  you  can.  She  's  a  noble  girl.  God  forbid  that 
J,  by  word  or  deed,  should  bring  upon  myself  the  charge  of 
ingratitude,  by  crossing  the  path  of  one  who  has  always  been 
my  best  friend.  But  you  must  seek  some  one  else  to  bear 
your  message,  for  I  cannot ;  indeed  I  cannot.' 

'And  you  will  not  endeavor  to  prevent  my  fulfilling  my 
intention  ? ' 

'  Indeed  I  will  not ! '  replied  Wharton,  earnestly. 

'Well,  I  did  not  expect  that,'  said  the  Doctor  coldly. 
4  Did  n't  I  bring  you  up  from  the  time  that  you  were  no 
higher  than  my  knee  ?  Answer  me  that !  ' 


THE    ATTORNEY.  371 

'  You  have  been  very  kind  to  me,'  said  Wharton. 

'  Well,  I  'in  glad  you  admit  that.  There  's  some  truth 
left,  I  see.  Now  answer  me  this  question  :  Had  n't  I  a  right 
to  expect  that,  as  I  grew  old  and  feeble,  you  would  be  a  stay 
to  me,  and  would  counsel  me,  and,  if  needs  be,  shield  me 
from  harm  ?  Had  n't  I  a  right  to  expect  all  this,  I  say  ? ' 

'  You  had,  indeed,'  replied  Wharton  ;  '  and  as  far  as  I  am 
able,  you  shall  always  find  me  ready  to  repay  the  debt  of 
kindness  which  I  acknowledge.' 

N  'Shall  I?'  said  the  Doctor,  with  a  sneer.  *  This  looks  like 
it ;  for  at  this  very  moment,  when  I,  almost  in  my  dotage, 
and  scarcely  able  to  carry  my  own  tottering  carcass,  talk  of 
committing  such  a  downright  piece  of  folly  as  that  of  run 
ning  off  with  a  gay,  giddy  girl,  who  would  lead  me  the 
Devil's  own  life  —  a  rattling,  wild  hoyden,  who  would  raise 
such  a  din  about  my  old  ears  that  I  should  be  glad  to  turn 
ble  out  of  the  world  at  a  hop-skip-and-jump  to  get  rid  of 
her  —  you,  in  the  most  demure  manner,  say  that,  although 
you  will  not  assist  in,  yet  you  will  not  stir  a  finger  to  prevent 
the  consummation  of  this  outrageous  piece  of  folly !  As  I 
said  before,  I  did  not  expect  this  of  you.' 

*  But,  my  dear  Sir,'  said  Wharton,  '  what  do  you  want  ? 
What  should  I  do  ? ' 

'  Do  ?  I  '11  tell  you  what  /  would  do.  If  I  were  in  your 
place,  I  would  step  up  to  my  venerable  friend,  and  would 
say  to  him  :  '  My  dear  old  fellow,  do  n't  be  a  fool !  I  won't 
permit  it.  You  must  not  make  such  a  sacrifice  at  your 
years.  Sooner  than  that,  I  '11  offer  myself  as  a  substitute, 
and  will  take  the  girl  off  your  hands.'  That's  what  I 
would  do.' 

'  Oh ! '  said  Wharton,  whose  face  began  to  brighten,  *  I 
understand.' 

'  You  do  ?  Well,  it 's  time.  And  you  '11  make  the  sacri 
fice?' 


872  THE    ATTORNEY. 


'When?' 

'  Let  me  choose  my  own*  time,'  said  Wharton  ;  '  for,  con 
sidering  the  picture  which  you  have  just  drawn  of  the  life 
which  I  am  to  lead,  I  think  that  I  ought  not  to  be  hurried.' 

The  old  man  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  shaking  his  head, 
said: 

*  You  're  a  droll  fellow.  Have  it  your  own  way.'  Putting 
his  cane  under  his  arm,  he  went  into  the  street  and  walked 
three  blocks,  rubbing  his  hands,  and  hugging  himself  with 
out  intermission,  to  the  great  amazement  of  three  servants 
and  six  boys,  who  set  him  down  for  a  lunatic  lately  eloped 
from  some  pleasant  asylum. 

Wharton  kept  his  promise  ;  and  before  a  year  was  out  he 
had  offered  himself  as  a  substitute  for  the  Doctor,  and  was 
accepted,  and  sacrificed  according  to  agreement. 

ON  the  clay  succeeding  the  murder,  Mr.  Higgs,  ignorant 
of  what  had  happened,  was  making  the  best  of  his  way  to 
the  attorney's  office.  He  thought  it  strange  that  a  crowd 
should  be  lingering  about  the  door  and  looking  up  at  the 
windows  as  if  there  were  something  very  remarkable  in  what 
had  hitherto  struck  him  as  a  house  very  far  gone  in  dilapi 
dation,  and  not  at  all  peculiar  for  any  thing  except  an  ex 
tremely  rusty  and  gloomy  exterior.  Elbowing  his  way 
through  the  throng,  he  was  on  the  point  of  entering  the 
door,  when  his  arm  was  touched,  and  looking  round,  he  per 
ceived  the  stunted  marker,  his  usually  composed  countenance 
lighted  up  with  an  expression  of  great  interest,  beckoning 
him  to  follow.  At  the  same  time,  he  quickly,  but  cautiously 
placed  his  finger  on  his  lip.  Higgs  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  this  manoeuvre,  but  he  did  not  forget  that  the 
marker  was  shrewd  and  intelligent,  and  rarely  acted  without 


THE    ATTORNEY.  373 

a  motive;  so  he  turned  in  the  direction  which  he  had 
taken. 

'  You  had  better  evaporate ! '  said  the  boy,  as  soon  as  they 
were  out  of  ear-shot  of  the  crowd.  '  What  the  blazes  brought 
you  here,  when  all  your  plans  is  bu'st  up,  and  you  'm  got  to 
streak  it  ?  Why  a'  n't  you  off  ? ' 

Higgs  favored  the  boy  with  a  look  of  intense  investiga 
tion,  and  then  said  :  '  Go  on,  Charley ;  what 's  to  pay  j  ' 

*  Then  you  have  n't  heard  it  ? ' 

'  No,  and  am  not  likely  to,  if  you  keep  on  asking  ques 
tions  instead  of  answering  them.  What  is  it  ? ' 

'  This  is  it,'  said  the  boy  earnestly  :  '  Wilkins  is  settled  the 
hash  of  that  legal  gen'leman,  Bolton,  last  night;  slashed 
him  all  to  slivers ;  and  when  they  bu'st  into  his  office  this 
morning,  they  found  him  as  dead  as  a  hammer.' 

'  Great  God  ! '  ejaculated  Higgs.     '  Well  ?  well  2 ' 

1  Well,'  said  the  boy,  '  that  was  n't  the  wo'st  of  it.  Wil 
kins  is  mad  and  t'  other  dead  ;  so  that  there  's  not  much  can 
be  done  to  them,  and  they  intend  to  take  the  balance  out  of 
your  hide  ;  —  that 's  wot  they  're  arter,  my  boy.  They  found 
letters  of  yourn  to  the  lawyer,  and  letters  of  his'n,  all  about 
that  WTill ;  and  the  police  have  got  all  on  'em,  and  will  soon 
be  arter  you.  So  I  think  you  'd  better  be  off.  That 's  all.' 

*  Is  this  true,  Charley,  upon  your  word  \ '  said  Higgs,  after 
a  short  pause. 

*  What  do  you  s'pose  them  people  is  looking  at  that  house 
for,  if  it  a'  n't  ? '  said  the   marker,   pointing  to  the  crowd. 
4  They  Ve  all  seed  it  a  hundred  times  afore  ;  but  if  you  do  n't 
believe  me,  go  and  ask  at  the  police.   They  '11  tell  you  more ; 
but  perhaps  they  '11  invite  you  to  stop  to  tea  arterwards,  and 
when  you  'HI  done,  won't  let  you  go  then,  nuther,  but  insist 
on  your  taking  a  bed  too.     For  my  part,  I  think  I  'd  sooner 
ask  some  one  else,  and  lose  the  bed  and  supper  both  —  that 's 
what  I  think.' 


374  THE    ATTORNEY. 

1 1  think  so  myself,  Charley,'  said  Mr.  Higgs,  '  and  I  '11 
remember  the  good  turn  you  Ve  done  me  this  day  ;  I  ivill, 
Charley ;  and  it'  ever  you  are  in  trouble,  come  to  me  and 
I  '11  help  you.  By  Heaven  !  I  will.  If  I  have  but  a  shil 
ling,  you  shall  share  it.  Good-bye  !  I  have  thought  hard 
of  you,  but  I  find  the  Devil  is  not  as  black  as  he 's  painted.' 

'  I  find  the  same  identical  tiling,'  said  the  marker,  com 
posedly,  thrusting  his  hands  in  his  pockets  ;  '  but  you  'd 
better  trot.  Off  with  you  ! ' 

Urged  this  second  time,  Higgs  hurried  off,  while  the 
marker  sauntered  back  to  the  house  to  pick  up  more  gossip. 

From  that  day  Mr.  Higgs  was  absent  from  his  usual 
haunts  ;  and  at  the  same  time  a  gentleman  singularly  like 
him  in  personal  appearance  took  lodgings  in  a  small  attic,  in 
an  unfrequented  part  of  the  city,  where  he  locked  himself  up, 
and  saw  no  body  except  a  small  stunted  boy,  who  occasionally 
called  and  had  long  and  confidential  conversations  with  him 
in  so  low  a  tone  that  none  could  overhear  them.  The  rest 
of  the  time  the  stranger  passed  in  reading  the  newspapers 
and  imbibing  beer  with  great  perseverance  and  relish.  His 
name,  however,  was  Brown. 

For  days  after  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Brown  at  his  new 
lodgings,  the  noise  of  the  murder  spread  through  the  city. 
In  broad  thoroughfares  where  the  butterflies  of  the  world 
sunned  themselves,  and  in  narrow  alleys  where  thieves 
skulked  and  the  poor  festered,  it  found  its  way.  Every  thing 
connected  with  it  came  to  the  broad  glare  of  day;  and 
among  other  things  the  last  letter  from  Higgs  to  the  attorney 
figured  in  the  public  journals  with  a  frequency  which,  in  any 
other  case,  Mr.  Higgs  might  have  thought  quite  desirable. 
It  was  generally  followed  by  a  firm  assurance  from  the  editor 
to  his  readers,  that  a  warrant  was  out  against  Higgs,  that 
the  police  were  on  his  track,  and  that  he  could  not  escape. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  375 

Mr.  Brown  had  been  living  in  privacy  for  some  days  when 
this  paragraph  met  his  eye.  Having  concluded  it,  he  laid 
his  paper  on  the  floor,  uttered  the  single  monosyllable, 
'D  —  n!'  buttoned  his  coat  to  the  chin,  put  on  his  hat, 
drained  to  the  very  dregs  a  small  mug  which  had  contained 
ale,  and  opening  the  door  of  his  room,  quietly  decamped. 
Mr.  Brown  never  returned  to  his  lodgings,  nor  was  Hig^s 
ever  taken,  notwithstanding  the  predictions  of  the  editor  and 
the  noted  vigilance  of  the  police,  which  worthy  department 
felt  deeply  aggrieved  that  the  offender  should  escape  its 
clutches,  the  laws  be  set  at  defiance,  and  a  reward  of  $500, 
offered  for  his  apprehension,  be  unpocketed. 

Of  Mr.  Higgs  nothing  more  is  known  ;  but  shortly  after 
the  disappearance  of  Mr.  Brown  from  his  abode,  that  gentle 
man  arrived  in  Texas,  where  he  soon  became  engaged  in  an 
extensive  law-practice,  being  particularly  well  versed  in  the 
criminal  branches  of  that  science,  and  profoundly  learned  in 
the  law  relating  to  Wills.  I  am  informed,  however,  that  the 
effect  of  his  intense  application  to  business  is  showing  itself 
in  his  eyes  and  nose,  the  former  of  which  are  becoming 
somewhat  weak,  and  the  latter  slightly  red  at  the  end.  It 
has  been  suggested  by  some  ill-meaning  person  that  Mr. 
Brown  and  Higgs  were  the  same  individual ;  but  such  a 
suggestion  could  only  have  emanated  from  an  evil-minded 
person,  and  should  be  frowned  down  as  a  vile  slander  against 
a  man  of  unimpeachable  character. 

Mr.  Rawley  and  his  dog,  a  few  years  since,  left  their 
former  place  of  abode  without  mentioning  their  intentions 
to  any  one  ;  and  so  profound  is  the  mystery  attached  to  their 
departure,  that  I  am  informed  neither  his  wife  nor  sixty-two 
creditors,  nor  five  deputy-sheriffs,  who  have  shown  a  most 
lively  interest  in  his  welfare  by  diligently  searching  for  him 
from  that  time  to  the  present,  have  been  able  to  throw  any 


376  THE    ATTORNEY. 

light  upon  the  subject.  At  first  it  was  feared  that  he  might 
have  jumped  into  the  dock  and  bathed  himself  out  of  the 
world,  and  it  was  suggested  that  if  the  river  were  dragged 
his  body  would  be  found.  But  his  antipathy  to  water,  un 
less  diluted  with  some  stimulant,  having  been  duly  reflected 
on,  it  was  concluded  that  not  even  a  strong  hankering  foi 
sudden  death  could  have  overcome  that ;  and  the  idea  was 
"  abandoned  as  preposterous. 

About  a  year  after  Mr.  Rawley's  departure,  Mr.  Quagley 
struck  up  an  intimacy  with  his  deserted  wife.  His  visit? 
became  more  and  more  regular ;  he  sat  longer,  and  seemed 
to  think  more  profoundly  ;  once  or  twice  in  the  presence  of 
the  lady  he  complained  of  a  little  kind  of  flurry  about  the 
heart,  and  then  shook  his  head  mysteriously  at  her ;  and  on 
one  occasion,  when  departing,  being  accompanied  by  her  to 
the  door,  a  succession  of  short,  sudden  reports,  not  unlike 
the  corks  popping  out  of  overcharged  porter-bottles,  waa 
heard  in  the  entry.  This  discharge  of  artillery  was  accom 
panied  by  a  very  gentle  scream,  and  in  a  short  time  Mrs. 
Ravvley  returned  a  little  flushed  in  the  face,  adjusting  her 
cap,  which  had  in  some  unaccountable  manner  got  out 
of  place,  probably  in  endeavoring  to  stop  up  the  bottle 
from  which  the  noise  proceeded ;  and  Mr.  Quagley  was 
heard  chuckling  to  himself,  and  muttering  as  he  went  past 
the  window  :  '  Cuss  me !  but  she  is  n't  so  bad  ! '  From  the 
direction  in  which  all  these  straws  were  blowing,  and  from 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Quagley  one  day  said,  in  the  most  resolute 
manner,  *  If  he  would  n't  like  to  know  whether  that  there 
Rawley  had  hopped  the  twig  or  not,  he  hoped  he  might  be 
sniggered,'  it  was  strongly  suspected  that  he  had  designs  on 
the  lady  in  question. 

But  the  best-laid  plans  sometimes  fail,  and  Mr.  Quagley 
was  a  striking  illustration  of  the  truth  of  this  novel  maxim ; 


THE    ATTORNEY.  377 

for  one  fine  afternoon,  after  having  been  uncommonly  merry, 
and  having,  as  he  metaphorically  remarked,  '  oiled  the  wheels 
of  life's  locomotive  with  a  slight  sling  or  two,'  he  gradually 
retired  into  what  he  called  a  '  brown  study,'  a  peculiar  state 
of  mind  and  body  into  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  relaps 
ing  after  indulging  the  unctuous  process  just  mentioned,  and 
reposing  his  body  on  a  chair,  and  his  head  in  a  corner,  he 
soon  became  merged  in  a  profound  calm.  The  usual  hour 
for  his  leaving  his  study  having  passed,  it  struck  the  stunted 
marker  that  it  was  both  longer  and  browner  than  common. 
On  attempting  to  .awaken  him,  however,  he  discovered  that 
his  studies  were  ended  for  ever,  and  that  *  life's  locomotive ' 
had  burst  its  boiler,  and  got  off  the  track. 

The  establishment  was  broken  up  ;  the  table  sold  ;  the 
1  Retreat '  disappeared,  and  the  poor  marker,  after  sauntering 
about  the  streets  for  several  days  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  whistling  a  careless  tune  with  a  heavy  heart,  betook 
himself  to  selling  newspapers,  an  avocation  in  which  he  ac 
quired  great  distinction  by  the  ease  of  his  manners  and  the 
harmonious  fluency  with  which  the  names  of  a  dozen  or 
twenty  journals  flowed  from  his  lips,  without  his  missing  a 
syllable  or  catching  a  breath.  Having  accumulated  a  small 
capital  in  this  profession,  and  being  of  an  ambitious  turn,  he 
gave  it  the  go-by,  and  is  at  present  a  sub-editor  to  a  leading 
journal  in  this  city. 

Mrs.  Dow,  on  recovering  from  her  fainting-fit  at  the  Sur 
rogate's  office,  retreated  to  her  house  in  deep  wrath ;  and 
having  spent  an  hour  in  tearing  her  hair  and  gnashing  her 
teeth  —  which,  the  former  being  a  wig  and  the  latter  false, 
and  originally  grown  in  the  mouth  of  a  negro  who  had  died 
of  the  small-pox,  was  not  accompanied  by  any  great  bodily 
inconvenience  — she  retired  to  her  own  room,  opened  a  desk, 
and  without  word  or  comment  other  than  a  sprsmodic  effort 


378  THE    ATTORNEY. 

at  swallowing  an  imaginary  potato  which  rose  in  her  throat, 
committed  a  large  package  of  letters  to  the  flames.  She 
then  went  down  stairs  and  rang  the  parlor -bell. 

'Aaron,  do  you  know  of  the  aifront  which  has  been  put 
on  me  ? '  said  she,  in  a  subdued  tone,  as  the  man-servant 
walked  deliberately  to  the  middle  of  the  room  and  stopped. 

'I  do,'  said  Aaron. 

'  How  shall  I  be  revenged  ?     I  shall  die  if  I  a'  n't.' 

*  Marry  some  one  else.' 

'Who?' 

'  Me  ! '  replied  Aaron. 

The  perspiration  stood  in  large  drops  on  Aaron's  fore 
head  as  he  uttered  this  bold  piece  of  advice,  and  he  looked 
apprehensively-ioward  the  door ;  but  it  was  received  with 
more  favor  than  he  had  anticipated  ;  and  but  a  very  short 
time  had  elapsed  before  the  man-servant  had  actually  kissed 
the  widow,  a  performance  which  he  might  have  repeated, 
had  not  the  lady  suggested  that  she  was  in  a  state  of  high 
excitement,  which  proceedings  of  that  nature  tended  rather 
to  increase  than  diminish,  and  begged  him  to  consider  how 
recently  her  feelings  had  been  lacerated  by  the  most  barbar 
ous  of  men.  Aaron  took  the  hint;  but  he  nevertheless 
urged  his  suit  with  such  warmth  and  success,  that  Mrs.  Dow 
consented  to  change  her  state  that  very  day.  Before  night 
the  ceremony  was  performed,  and  instead  of  supping  in  the 
kitchen,  Aaron  took  his  tea  in  the  parlor ;  the  rod-haired 
cook  with  prominent  teeth  officiating  as  waiter,  that  situation 
being  resolutely  declared  by  Aaron  to  be  vacant,  in  defiance 
of  the  entreaties  of  his  wife,  who  begged  him  to  perform  the 
duties  but  for  that  single  night.  But  Aaron  was  so  obsti 
nately  astonished  that  his  lady  could  even  think  of  employ 
ing  him  in  such  menial  occupations,  that  she  yielded  the 
point ;  and  the  red-haired  cook  wa?  called  from  the  regions 
below  to  act  in  his  place. 


THE    ATTORNEY.  379 

Phillips  yet  lives ;  still  the  same  generous  fellow  that  he 
ever  was,  with  a  hand  and  heart  always  open  to  the  voice  of 
suffering.  Many  a  spirit  which  was  weary  and  heavy-laden 
has  been  lightened  by  his  kindness,  and  many  a  sad  eye  has 
learned  to  glow  with  pleasure  at  the  sight  of  him.  Though 
his  means  are  scanty,  he  never  makes  that  a  plea  for  turning 
a  deaf  ear  to  the  cry  of  distress  ;  and  his  ready  aid  has  often 
sustained  those  whom  misfortune  had  driven  to  the  verge  of 
despair,  and  rescued  those  whom  want  had  kept  balancing 
between  hunger  and  crime.  Although  his  connection  with 
this  story  has  been  a  painful  one,  let  us  hope  that  there  may 
still  be  pleasant  dreams  in  store  for  him,  and  that  he  may 
yet  meet  with  instances  where  a  wife's  love  was  rewarded, 
and  where  a  husband  knew  how  to  appreciate  that  best  gift 
in  life. 


A  FEW  words  respecting  himself  and  his  friends,  and 
JOHN  QUOD  will  lay  aside  his  pen. 

I  had  not  proceeded  far  in  the  preceding  narrative,  when 
letter  after  letter  dropped  in,  until  my  number  of  correspond 
ents  became  so  numerous  that,  being  somewhat  slow  of 
thought,  and  by  no  means  a  ready  writer,  I  found  the 
answering  them  no  slight  task.  At  that  period  I  broke  off 
all  public  notice  of  them,  and  addressed  myself  more  par 
ticularly  to  the  continuation  of  my  story. 

Not  long  after  this,  while  sitting  in  my  room,  with  my 
dog  asleep  at  my  feet,  I  heard  a  sharp  knock  at  the  door; 
and  before  I  could  reply  to  it,  a  stout  man,  fashionably 
dressed,  and  carrying  a  thick  stick  under  his  arm,  entered, 
accompanied  by  an  iron-gray  bull-dog  of  the  most  unpre 
possessing  countenance.  The  gentleman  held  the  door  open 


380  THE    ATTORNEY. 

until  the  dog  was  in  the  room,  then  walked  up  to  me,  slapped 
me  somewhat  roughly  on  my  left  shoulder,  which  is  a  little 
rheumatic,  and  introduced  himself  as  Mr.  Snagg,  and  his 
companion  as  a  great-grandson  of  that  invaluable  dog 
Slaughter,  whose  loss  he  should  ever  deplore,  and  respecting 
whom  he  had  written  to  me.  I  could  not  but  give  a  cordial 
reception  to  one  who  had  evinced  so  much  good  feeling 
toward  me,  and  I  requested  him  to  be  seated.  He  seemed 
particularly  proud  of  his  dog,  and  dwelt  on  his  prowess 
with  great  satisfaction.  By  way  of  showing  his  unbounded 
confidence  in  his  abilities,  he  offered  to  bet  fifty  dollars  that 
he  would  set  him  on  my  dog,  who  had  judiciously  retreated 
under  a  distant  chair,  and  that  in  three  minutes  by  the  watch 
he  would  '  rip  him  all  to  smash.'  I  declined  the  proposition, 
at  the  same  time  admitting  that  an  appearance  of  great 
talent  of  that  peculiar  description  was  stamped  upon  the 
countenance  of  his  dog.  This  seemed  to  satisfy  him,  and 
the  conversation  took  a  general  turn. 

From  that  time  he  became  a  daily  visitor  at  my  rooms, 
kindly  volunteering  his  opinion  through  the  whole  of  the 
preceding  narrative,  and  criticising  it  with  a  most  friendly 
freedom  and  diffuseness.  It  is  owing  to  him,  however,  that 
I  have  been  able  to  pursue  my  avocations  with  out  molesta 
tion  ;  for  not  a  few  of  the  various  communications  received 
by  me  were  of  an  unfriendly  character.  Some  persons 
wanted  to  know  whether  my  descriptions  were  personal ; 
whether  they  referred  to  them  and  theirs ;  and  one  gentle 
man  swore,  that  if  Mrs.  Dow  was  meant  for  his  aunt,  who 
died  in  Havana  in  the  year  '16,  he  'd  make  me  smell  thun 
der  ;  a  perfume  which,  from  his  tone  and  manner  of  offering 
it,  I  presume  must  be  very  disagreeable. 

The  answering  these  letters,  and  adjusting  all  difficulties 
arising  from  them,  Mr.  Snagg  kindly  took  upon  himself;  and 


THE    ATTORNEY.  381 

though  I  am  ignorant  of  his  mode  of  compromising  them, 
it  certainly  was  most  effectual,  for  I  was  never  troubled  with 
a  second  communication  from  any  of  those  whom  he  visited. 
Once,  in  particular,  I  received  a  note  which  concluded  with 
the  rather  hostile  hint  that '  the  skin  of  a  cow  was  not  unfre- 
quently  used  for  other  purposes  than  that  of  shoe-leather.' 
Being  an  elderly  man,  and  somewhat  timorous,  this  letter 
agitated  me  not  a  little ;  but  Mr.  Snagg,  with  his  usual 
friendly  feeling,  having  taken  it  from  my  hand  and  perused 
it  from  beginning  to  end,  begged  me  to  make  myself  per 
fectly  easy,  as  he  would  settle  the  difficulty  at  once.  Put 
ting  on  his.  hat,  he  forthwith  proceeded  to  the  residence  of 
the  writer,  accompanied  by  his  dog.  What  occurred  there 
I  never  knew ;  but  I  observed,  on  Mr.  Snagg's  return,  that 
his  face  was  slightly  discolored  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
left  eye,  and  that  his  dog  amused  himself  during  the  whole 
of  that  afternoon  by  shaking  violently  the  skirt  of  a  coat 
which  he  brought  with  him  in  his  mouth,  and  which  cer 
tainly  did  not  belong  to  the  coat  of  Mr.  Snagg.  I  arn  happy 
to  add  that  I  received  no  further  communication  from  the 
gentleman  in  question. 

Another  person  to  whom  I  am  under  no  slight  obligation 
is  the  constable  from  whom,  as  I  have  mentioned  before,  I 
learned  many  of  the  facts  of  my  tale.  He  has  looked  over 
my  MS.  with  great  care,  at  times  suggesting  alterations  and 
adding  new  matter,  which  once  or  twice  I  feared  might  have 
been  borrowed  from  the  regions  of  romance.  But  he  so 
pertinaciously  maintained  his  own  accuracy,  talking  warmly 
of  his  honor,  and  swearing  to  his  own  veracity  with  such 
vehemence,  that  I  felt  to  doubt  longer  would  be  doing  him 
a,  great  injustice. 

So  far  all  had  gone  well ;  but  there  are  clouds  even  in  a 
sunny  sky ;  and  a  heavy  shadow  seemed  to  fall  upon  me  one 


382  THE    ATTORNEY. 

day,  when  the  little  boy  who  had  so  often  nestled  in  my  arms, 
and  made  my  room  merry  with  his  voice,  informed  me  that 
his  parents  intended  to  quit  the  city,  and  that  be  had  come 
to  take  his  leave.  It  was  a  sad  hour  for  me ;  but  he  went 
off,  and  the  last  I  saw  of  him  was  when  be  stopped  before 
turning  a  corner  and  waved  his  hand  to  me  as  I  leaned  out 
of  my  window  to  look  after  him.  It  grew  dark  while  I  was 
leaning  out  of  that  window,  but  he  did  not  return ;  and  I 
closed  the  sash  and  sat  down  in  my  room  with  a  heavier 
heart  than  I  had  known  for  years. 

As  I  take  a  warm  interest  in  everything  about  me,  I  have 
met  with  another  source  of  trouble  in  the  person  of  my  dog. 
I  know  not  how  it  occurred,  but  one  day  he  left  me  in  high 
dudgeon  at  a  fancied  insult,  and  I  am  much  afraid  that,  in 
an  unguarded  moment,  and  under  the  influence  of  ill-humor, 
he  ventured  to  interfere  in  some  vulgar  brawl  in  which  he 
had  no  concern  ;  for  that  night  he  returned  to  my  room 
with  his  tail  cut  off.  He  has  never  been  the  same  dog  from 
that  hour ;  and  although,  with  the  philosophy  peculiar  to  his 
character,  he  endeavors  to  bear  up  against  his  loss,  it  evi 
dently  affects  his  spirits.  I  once  observed  him  in  sad  con 
templation  of  a  large  wood-cut  illustrative  of  the  fox  that 
had  lost  his  tail ;  but  it  did  not  appear  to  comfort  him,  for 
after  pondering  over  it  for  some  time,  he  shook  his  head  in 
a  manner  indicating  that  it  was  all  nonsense,  and  walked 
gloomily  over  to  my  house.  I  think  I  may  safely  say  that, 
in  all  respects,  except  the  regularity  with  which  he  comes  to 
his  meals,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  he  swallows  them,  he 
is  an  altered  animal. 

And  now,  in  reply  to  a  question  as  to  the  legal  accuracy 
of  this  story,  I  must  add,  that  I  believe  it  to  be  correct.  At 
all  events,  it  is  sufficiently  accurate  for  all  purposes,  and  to 
any  thing  more  I  did  not  aspire :  for  in  the  matter  of  Wills 


THE    ATTORNEY.  383 

I  have  had  but  little  experience,  and  never  in  the  course  of 
my  practice  did  I  come  in  contact  with  an  entire  live  surro 
gate.  Transient  glimpses  of  that  ominous  magistrate,  (who 
was  always  associated  in  my  mind  with  the  undertaker,  the 
sexton,  and  the  grave-digger,)  as  others  entered  his  office, 
were  all  that  I  ever  had.  The  shelves  with  their  heavy 
volumes  were  unexplored  by  me,  and  the  clerk  with  a  frizzled 
wig  never  had  his  reveries  disturbed  by  my  footstep.  The 
reason  is  plain  ;  when  at  the  bar  I  had  but  one  client,  a  rag 
ged,  out-at-elbows  fellow,  who  lived  by  his  wits,  and  died 
many  years  since,  leaving  few  except  me  to  grieve  for  him, 
(for  he  was  a  friend  as  well  as  a  client,)  and  nothing  but 
debts  behind  him ;  a  species  of  property  which,  although 
very  liberally  diffused  throughout  society,  I  have  generally 
discovered  that  no  one  seems  anxious  to  administer  on.  He 
was  never  litigious.  He  permitted  those  of  his  creditors  who 
chose  to  do  so,  to  get  judgments  against  him,  without  oppo 
sition  ;  and  although  in  the  heat  of  my  legal  fervor  I  hinted 
to  him  of  the  delay  which  he  might  obtain  by  my  assistance, 
he  merely  said  :  '  No,  no ;  poor  devils  !  let  them  get  a  judg 
ment,  if  it 's  any  comfort  to  them,  for  they  are  not  likely  to 
get  any  thing  else.'  He  was  a  true  prophet ;  for  he  died  as 
he  had  lived — penniless;  and  the  cost  of  his  funeral  came 
out  of  my  pocket. 

But  I  am  growing  garrulous,  and  it  is  time  that  I  should 
break  off,  and  say  that  single  sad  word,  '  Farewell ! '  It  is  a 
heavy  word  for  all  to  utter ;  but  more  particularly  for  the 
aged ;  and  I  must  confess  myself  loth  to  end  a  companion 
ship  which  I  hope  has  grown  up  between  us  during  the  long 
months  of  a  whole  year ;  for  I  fancied  that  I  had  established 
an  intimacy  with  my  readers ;  and  that  while  I  was  at  work 
in  my  solitary  room,  a  feeling  of  kindness  toward  me  might 
lurk  in  some  out-of-the-way  corner  of  their  hearts,  and  that 


384  THE    ATTORNEY. 

their  thoughts  would  sometimes  wander  off  to  my  dim 
chamber  and  its  time-worn  occupant.  These  were  pleasant 
fancies ;  and  even  if  I  deceived  myself  by  entertaining  them, 
still  they  served  to  cheer  me  on  in  the  early  part  of  this  long 
spun  tale;  to  make  me  sad  as  I  saw  it  drawing  to  a  close ; 
and  to  render  it  no  light  task  to  say  to  those  who  have 
patiently  followed  me  through,  '  Farewell ! '  It  is  a  matter 
of  much  uncertainty  whether  we  shall  ever  meet  again ;  for 
my  blood  is  running  slowly,  my  limbs  are  trembling,  and  ere 
long  this  heart  may  be  cold,  and  JOHN  QUOD  be  only  a  name. 


Cfje  ISn*. 


7 


